Archive of Our Own

Far, far away, in the layers between heaven and paradise, there is a realm called Elysium. From furred beasts and winged creatures to scaled spirits of rivers and forests, the land is home to countless spiritual beings known as “Guardian Spirits”. 

Mortals who perform massive, selfless, or extraordinary acts of heroism ascend as Guardian Spirits and remain immortal. However, unlike gods, humans do not worship them; instead, they seek their protection. Hence, the core duty of every spirit is to serve humans when they are summoned. 

In Elysium, these spirit animals live in peace and harmony and rarely resort to violence. They wander the land in their spiritual bodies except when they take human forms for three special days each month. 

With horns and wings to tails and furs, they coexist and conjoin their powers to succour the realm with magic. The realm, with its abundant water springs, seas and sunlight, sustains the creatures, while nectar from flowers and embers of sapwood bring nourishment. 

Reveling in the abundance of their immortal lives, the spiritual beings fear little save for the doom of a curse. It is not uncommon to be cursed and left to perish as humans, stripped of power, magic and purpose. However, the cruellest of them is not to remember the curse, making it impossible to reverse. 

Such is the destiny of Xie Lian, the only one to remain in human form at all times. 

Xie Lian is the anomaly amongst the denizens, cursed to never find a mate for centuries to come, until the curse is lifted. Every full moon, when these spiritual beings turn human to rest, love and mate, Xie Lian remains isolated, left to lament his misfortune.

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Morning arrives with the call of several bird spirits retreating to their tree houses after nightwatching. 

Xie Lian wakes up ploddingly, rubbing the remnants of a meagre sleep he got last night. 

The dreams—they are frequent these days. Some pleasant, while others… not so. 

He rises from the bed, parting the gauzy cloth he hung as curtains, and unlatches the window. 

Sweet breezes of Orange Blossoms sweep inside, grazing his weary soul and bringing some momentary peace. 

He feels lethargic—not because he has worked too much, but because he hasn’t done any. 

You see, as a Guardian Spirit, Xie Lian’s primary duty is to serve mortals in need when he is called for. But Xie Lian has been cursed, his powers sealed with a black cuff around his right wrist, and all memories of his past life wiped for over eight centuries. 

Without powers and unable to don his spiritual form, Xie Lian stays fettered to the realm—no purpose, no duty, and no meaning. 

When the mortals summon every other spirit throughout the month, Xie Lian remains forgotten, unable to fulfil his duties. 

The most painful side of this curse, however, is the loneliness. 

Eight hundred years ago, when Xie Lian woke up next to a hot spring on the edge of the realm, he was amnesiac. No memories of the past, no sense of identity except his name, and certainly no understanding of the land he is on. 

He wandered for days until he bumped into a spiritual being, who took him back to others. 

Nobody knows his past, remembers his spiritual form, or whether he has a mate. And without any notion of the curse or the curser, Xie Lian’s destiny had been sealed literally and figuratively. 

At first came sympathy. 

Pity for his misfortune. Several spirits checked on him regularly and included him in the activities of the realm. But time passed. Some grew tired, while others relocated to distant corners of Elysium.

Soon, Xie Lian became the outcast of the land—the laughing stock of the realm and a mockery to be called a Guardian Spirit.

Now, most of the time, he roams through the land, offering assistance to his fellow spiritual beings, cleaning their abode if they allow or tending to their wounds. 

Elysium is a habitat for many medicinal plants. And in the past eight hundred years of meandering, Xie Lian studied and gathered many of them for the sole purpose of therapeutic benefits. 

With no trace of spiritual essence in his human body and Xie Lian’s bad luck of attracting injuries, storing these medicinal plants became indispensable. 

Slowly, he began to treat others, too. 

Most of them refuse Xie Lian’s help, claiming that any assistance from his cuffed hand could carry his curse and soil their fortune. Yet, Xie Lian hasn’t stopped offering. Trying to fulfil his core duties one way or another. 

However, some other spirits—a handful of them—are still kind to him. Even though they live far away, most check on him regularly—bringing fruits, herbs, or sometimes trinkets when they return from the mortal realm. 

One of them—

Thud!

Xie Lian jumps, gasping, and almost drops the bathing bailer on the ground. 

Is someone throwing rocks at his house?

No. That can’t be it. 

Nobody has thrown anything at him or his mediocre stump house ever since—

“A-Lian.”

Ah! Speak of the angel. 

Xie Lian’s lips stretch into a wide smile. He quickly hangs the ladle on one of the nails by the bucket and wipes his wet face with the towel on his shoulders. 

“A-Lian, you there?”

Xie Lian chuckles.

Like his friend on the roof, he can’t shout lest he be subjected to his neighbours’ jabs. Therefore, he hastily tightens the white bandage over his cursed marks and rushes out. 

The sight that greets him is not less amusing.

"Qingxuan,” Xie Lian sighs, trying his best not to smile at the Snow Leopard Spirit sprawled on his roof. “Why are you on my roof?" 

Qingxuan lets out a loud purr, his rounded ears pointing forward as he rises on all fours. “I climbed, aha.”

Xie Lian laughs at the reply, no longer able to mask the joy at seeing his best friend early in the morning. 

“Alright, come down,” Xie Lian says, shaking his head in fondness. “I’ll prepare something to eat.”

Qingxuan stiffens visibly, then leaps down. “No.”

He circles Xie Lian once before rubbing himself on his robe, then settles on the lowest step. “I’m not hungry.”

Xie Lian puffs out a breath, then lowers himself to the ground next to the huge leopard. One of his hands reflexively goes into Qingxuan’s white and grey fur, just behind his ear, where he lightly scratches the base. 

“What were you doing on my roof?” Xie Lian asks, sweeping a look at his garden.

The pink and white Tulips are flourishing in their beds while the Coral Peonies he planted years ago are finally starting to bud. He can’t wait to see them bloom. 

The Sweet Alyssums have gotten a bit leggy. He might have to prune it later. 

“I’m waiting for He-xiong,” Qingxuan purrs, the sound—a gentle reverberation of liveliness disturbed only by the creek bubbling across from his house. 

“They’ll return today.”

Oh, right!

Tonight is a full moon. That means every Guardian Spirit will return from the mortal realm to rest for the next three days. 

Every Guardian Spirit, including Hua Cheng.

His San Lang. 

Hua Cheng is… Xie Lian does not quite know what they are to each other. 

Neighbours… Yes. 

Friends… perhaps. 

Something more than that… perhaps that too. 

They don’t really discuss their relationship. 

Even then, for Xie Lian, Hua Cheng has become everything. 

Hua Cheng had ascended as the Fox Spirit only two centuries ago. They have been neighbours ever since then. 

With a thick auburn pelt glowing like embers beneath moonlight, he is fierce to others—always seeming one breath away from becoming wildfire. 

But for Xie Lian, he has always been the warmth enveloping him in comfort in this cold, lonely realm. 

The first time they met was the day of Hua Cheng’s ascension. 

He had rushed to Xie Lian amidst the crowd, without waiting for the Sanctification Ceremony to conclude. 

Xie Lian had been standing away from the gathering, peering from a distance to see a glimpse of the new spirit. He didn’t want to ruin the holy service with his cursed self when a massive fox sprinted towards him.

Xie Lian stood still, stunned at the charging animal. 

However, the spirit started sniffing his robe before nudging his hand for pets. 

By then, Xie Lian had countless experiences of Qingxuan asking for pets, so he gently stroked the sides of the spirit’s face and squatted down to scratch his neck. 

The realm’s spiritual head, Pei Ming—a Red Stag spirit—who was ministering the ceremony, had laughed, announcing that the newly ascended Guardian Spirit had apparently chosen his human. 

Xie Lian had nearly died of embarrassment. Because what if this new spirit had a mate?

But Hua Cheng stuck with him since that day. 

For a week, he followed Xie Lian everywhere, lying outside his house, whining when Xie Lian moved away and barking at other Guardian Spirits. 

Xie Lian didn’t know the reason. 

He tried countless times to talk to the new spirit—asking his name and his past life. Going through the same usual set of questions they ask every newly ascended spirit. 

But nothing worked. 

Hua Cheng whined and squeaked, occasionally letting out high-pitched cries at night until Xie Lian started petting him. 

Even though a Fox, Hua Cheng’s spiritual form, is as huge as a fully grown wolf. With a lustrous, thick coat and eyes the colour of glowing coal, he screamed danger to anyone who approached him.

But whenever Xie Lian sat next to him, he draped himself on Xie Lian’s lap like a scared puppy. 

Nearly a week later, when Xie Lian had been humming a note and scratching along his cheeks, Hua Cheng stiffened suddenly. 

His ears perked upright. Then, quietly:

 "Gege."

Xie Lian froze for a moment, at the deep, husky voice. But continued brushing his fur, waiting for Hua Cheng to continue. 

Slowly, Hua Cheng introduced himself and asked Xie Lian to call him “San Lang”.

Since then, Xie Lian had been his gege and Hua Cheng his San Lang. 

For a while, Hua Cheng was withdrawn and standoffish to everyone except Xie Lian—barking and growling, while refusing to feed anything. 

Xie Lian, discerning the spirit’s laggard behaviour, built him a stump house next to his and slowly helped him acclimatise to the new surroundings. 

Hua Cheng visited him every day, bringing him Lily of the valley and Snowdrops every single time.

Xie Lian didn’t know how. Hua Cheng didn’t have a garden.

And every time, in return, Xie Lian picked several Sweet Alyssum growing in his garden and tucked them in his bushy tail. 

After all, the honey-scented flower is believed to possess calming energy and regulate spiritual imbalance. 

Slowly, Hua Cheng had begun to talk—about his past, about his mortal life as an army general of some kingdom.

Xie Lian had never heard of such a kingdom. But he listened nevertheless as Hua Cheng went on and on about missing that life even when he had to fight several battles. 

Xie Lian was astounded to hear such a confession. He could never think of a life full of combat and bloodshed, let alone miss it. 

But then again, Xie Lian must have led a boring past life, with the way he can’t even remember a glimpse of it. 

Hua Cheng’s whole demeanour had changed when Xie Lian mentioned the same. With droopy ears and soft whines, he lowered his head on Xie Lian’s lap, refusing to look at him. 

To this day, Xie Lian still thinks about that moment.

Xie Lian’s past never came up in their conversation after that day. But one thing is clear: Hua Cheng is very protective of him. 

Initially, it baffled him how ready Hua Cheng was to fight every Guardian Spirit who jeered at Xie Lian. 

Once, when a Guardian Spirit had remarked that cursed humans should remain where they belonged, Hua Cheng instantaneously leapt on him and bit through three of his claws. 

But then again, Shi Qingxuan does the same, except he has never ripped someone’s nail out just because they called Xie Lian ‘a dumb human’.

Today, everyone is polite to Xie Lian lest they want to start a fight with one of the realm’s strongest Guardian Spirits. 

“A-Lian.”

A cool nose prods against his palm, pulling Xie Lian from his thoughts. 

“Why did you stop?”

Xie Lian blinks before smiling. His fingers immediately return to the soft fur atop Qingxuan’s head.

“Sometimes,” Xie Lian says thoughtfully, “I wonder how a serpent and a snow leopard can work.”

Shi Qingxuan’s mate, He Xuan, is a Black Sea Serpent Spirit—one of the ruthless spirits other than Hua Cheng. 

Qingxuan lets out a pleased purr and tilts his head further into Xie Lian’s hand. “If a human and a fox can work, then why not us?”

Xie Lian nearly chokes. “What? San Lang and I? No—we’re not—”

Qingxuan lifts his head. “Not what? Soulmates?”

“I...” Xie Lian falters, his gaze drifting unconsciously toward the neighbouring stump house, now empty. 

Oh, how he wishes he could be soulmates with Hua Cheng!

These days, Xie Lian frequently dreams about a mate. A man with strong arms pulling him closer, long fingers running through his hair, and a soft pair of lips that sometimes brush against his to whisper sweet nothings. 

Each time, Xie Lian wakes up craving more and more, only to end up heartbroken.  

“What if he has a mate somewhere else?”

Qingxuan blinks. “You think so?”

Xie Lian lowers his eyes. “En. He always disappears during the Full Moon Festival.”

In all these years, Xie Lian had only seen Hua Cheng once in his house during the Full Moon Festival.

It had been the first full moon after Hua Cheng’s ascension.

As usual, Xie Lian had locked himself inside his house. Not because he was envious of watching spirits with their mates—laughing, cuddling and walking hand-in-hand.

No.

He simply did not want to remind himself of the gnawing ache of loneliness.

Like everyone, Xie Lian also got the itch to mate, to bond and love when the moon takes its full shape. 

And even though some of his friends used to check on him during these days, bringing sweets from festival stalls or dragging him out to watch plays near the seaside, everyone had been busy that one time.

Xie Lian had just been about to close the window facing Hua Cheng’s house when he noticed movement.

A tall young man stood inside.

With skin as smooth as jade, his complexion was pale, as if untouched by sun or freckles. Long black hair cascaded over his shoulders, and a crimson earring in the shape of a teardrop dangled from one of his ears. 

Entranced by the beauty, the spirits only sang during the plays, Xie Lian stood motionless, and watched the most beautiful man he had ever seen. 

The man wore bright, maple-red robes and a dark eyepatch over his right eye.  

Xie Lian did not know how long he had stood there watching…

Watching his neighbour run a comb through his silky hair, slender fingers gathering them into a high ponytail, when suddenly—

a warm brown eye lifted and—

Met his.

Xie Lian nearly yelped.

Then slammed the window shut and fled to his room like his life depended on it.

For the next three days, he did not open that window once—partly because he was embarrassed after getting caught ogling at his neighbour.

And partly because somewhere along the way, his feelings had started to grow into something more than simple affection. Something he still has not figured out whether it was new or whether it had always been there.

After that incident, Xie Lian had only ever caught glimpses of Hua Cheng’s human form during the Full Moon Festival.

While everyone else wandered through the streets enjoying games and human delicacies that appeared only during these three days, Hua Cheng always disappeared.

And his house remained locked.

Xie Lian believes he might have been visiting his mate during these days!

“A-Lian, look.”

Qingxuan nudges him again.

Along the creekside, another scene is unfolding.

If Qingxuan and his mate, He Xuan, were an unusual pair, then Feng Xin and Mu Qing were perhaps even stranger.

Feng Xin, an Elk Spirit, is standing by the water while his mate Mu Qing, a Black Cat Spirit, attempts to drink from the stream.

Attempts being the important word.

Because Feng Xin keeps nudging him.

“Stop it, you idiot,” Mu Qing snaps, claws out and tail lashing in annoyance.

Feng Xin nudges him again.

“I said stop—”

Feng Xin immediately backs away, then slowly turns aside.

Even though reading spirit expressions is difficult, Xie Lian somehow thinks Feng Xin is sulking.

But suddenly—

Mu Qing leaps onto him, rubbing himself behind Feng Xin’s neck and stealing the flowers tangled in his antlers, pretending absolutely none of this is happening.

“Awww,” Qingxuan sighs next to him while Xie Lian bursts into laughter.

Two heads instantly turn toward them.

Mu Qing jumps down immediately.

Probably embarrassed that he got caught showing emotions other than frustration.

“Get off his lap before that crazy possessive guard dog of his sees,” Mu Qing hisses, walking towards them.

Qingxuan, however, rubs his chin against Xie Lian’s knee and purrs louder. “Why should I? I’m A-Lian’s best friend.”

Meanwhile, Feng Xin is already settling beside Xie Lian, lowering his head so Xie Lian can untangle the remaining flowers.

He carefully plucks out a sunflower. “Thank you.”

“Mm.”

Mu Qing snorts. “Tell him that after you get scratched.”

“Mu Qing, ah. I’m sorry,” Xie Lian says awkwardly. “San Lang really didn’t know you were only playing with me.”

Mu Qing is the most recent victim of Hua Cheng’s deadly claws.

The two of them had merely been play-fighting when Mu Qing playfully bit Xie Lian’s arm.

Xie Lian had not even felt the bite before Hua Cheng lunged at Mu Qing and scratched one of his hind legs.

“Three days, Xie Lian,” Mu Qing deadpans. “Three whole days I had to apply medicine before it stopped burning.”

“Um...” Xie Lian coughs lightly. “San Lang is just protective of me.”

“That’s right.”

Another voice suddenly cuts through the conversation, and Xie Lian feels his heart skip painfully in his chest.

For a moment, everything around him seems to freeze.

Then he turns.

His friend—his San Lang—stands there beneath the soft morning light, majestic and real.

“San Lang!” Xie Lian blurts, the greeting dissolving into an embarrassingly delighted squeak as the Fox Spirit bounds toward him.

Xie Lian barely has time to brace himself before Hua Cheng crashes into his arms. He laughs softly, wrapping both arms around the enormous fox, though he can hardly fit around Hua Cheng’s broad frame.

Immediately, Hua Cheng melts against him, pressing his face into the crook of Xie Lian’s neck.

Something hits him suddenly, a strange sense of promnesia. 

Images of a tall man.

Hugging Xie Lian. Trying to make himself small in his arms while nestling into Xie Lian’s neck.

Chants of ‘miss you’ whispered in his ear.

Xie Lian gasps sharply.

What was that?

An old dream? Or something he imagined?

But before he can ponder, a cold nose tickles the skin of his neck. 

Xie Lian shakes his head, pushing the thought away, and scratches behind one soft ear, guiding Hua Cheng closer. Warm fur brushes against his skin, familiar and comforting in a way nothing else in Elysium had ever managed to be.

He had missed this.

Missed him.

Hua Cheng lets out a quiet whine, a low murr rumbling through his chest and vibrating against Xie Lian’s own.

Among Guardian Spirits, affection like this is not unusual.

Once mortals ascend into Elysium, their earthly ties dissolve. Spirits exist as part of a greater whole regardless of form or origin. They share homes, sleep curled beside one another, and touch freely without the rigid boundaries of the mortal realm.

No spirit belongs to another.

No bonds are formed.

But everything changes during the Full Moon.

For three nights, spirits shed their animal forms and turn human. In those vulnerable forms, intimacy carries an entirely different meaning. 

Touch without consent is considered a grave offence within Elysium—one punishable even by permanent banishment.

“How are you, San Lang?” Xie Lian asks at last, reluctantly pulling back once the sweat beading behind his neck becomes impossible to ignore.

Hua Cheng gives a soft huff before settling across the step Shi Qingxuan had occupied moments ago.

Only now does Xie Lian realise the others have disappeared completely. 

No sign of Shi Qingxuan, Feng Xin, or Mu Qing remains.

“Everyone except gege is uninteresting,” Hua Cheng says easily, lowering his head onto Xie Lian’s lap as if it were the most natural place in the world.

Xie Lian smiles, fingers brushing gently through the soft fur atop Hua Cheng’s head.

“I don’t think there’s anything particularly interesting about me, San Lang.”

He leans back against the small wooden railing with a sigh, glancing toward the little garden.

“I only have this drab little stump of a home and a tiny patch of plants.”

Hua Cheng immediately presses closer, burying his face deeper into Xie Lian’s robes.

“I love gege’s house,” he murmurs. “It feels more like a home than mine ever does.”

Xie Lian giggles softly.

Honestly, that is probably true considering how often Hua Cheng wanders into his home only to spend entire afternoons sprawled across the floor, sleeping in sunlit corners or stealing Xie Lian’s blankets.

“What did you do this time in the mortal realm?” Xie Lian asks.

Hua Cheng doesn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he keeps nosing quietly at Xie Lian’s sleeve and palm, purring low in his chest as though simply existing near him was enough.

Then—

“I received many calls from children this time,” he says lazily. “Apparently, there were monsters beneath their beds.”

Xie Lian laughs softly, stroking the sides of Hua Cheng’s face again. “And were there?”

“Only dust and poor imagination.”

Xie Lian shakes his head fondly.

“But I also escorted traders through the northern forests,” Hua Cheng continues. “Some of the routes were ambushed by bandits.”

Xie Lian tries to picture it.

A massive red fox leading frightened merchants through dark woods beneath lantern light.

The image strangely suits Hua Cheng far too well.

“That sounds interesting.”

“Mm.” Hua Cheng’s voice drops lower. “It wasn’t.”

He nudges closer until Xie Lian can feel warm breath through the fabric of his robes.

“I would rather stay beside my gege like this.”

Then after a pause: “I missed gege’s pets.”

Xie Lian freezes slightly.

That sentence.

He had heard those words before. Or something close to them.

Always in dreams.

Always from the faceless man whose voice wrapped around him like warmth he could never quite remember upon waking.

His chest tightens.

Could it possibly be Hua Cheng?

Or is Xie Lian’s own foolish heart beginning to twist his dreams into something they were never meant to be?

Because attraction is one thing.

Xie Lian can admit that much now.

Hua Cheng’s human form had haunted him for centuries.

But intimacy like that—

The kind from his dreams—

It feels dangerous somehow. Like crossing a river with no path back. 

And what about Hua Cheng’s mate who waits for him every Full Moon?

“Gege…”

The soft whine pulls him from his thoughts.

Only then does Xie Lian realise his hand had stopped moving entirely.

“Oh. Sorry.” He resumes petting him immediately, fingers sinking through thick crimson fur.

Hua Cheng practically melts.

Before either of them can speak again, a sudden commotion erupts on the opposite side of the creek.

Voices.

Hurried footsteps.

Xie Lian straightens immediately.

Several figures are moving toward the eastern paths, carrying what looks like an enormous body between them.

“Who is that?”

Hua Cheng lifts his head slightly, his gaze following Xie Lian’s. “Quan Yizhen,” he says after a moment. “He’s injured.”

Xie Lian’s stomach drops.

It is never a pleasant sight when Guardian Spirits return wounded from the mortal realm.

“What happened?”

For a long moment, Hua Cheng says nothing.

Then he exhales quietly, eyes lowering. “Hollows.”

The word alone makes Xie Lian go still. “Did they hurt him?” he asks softly.

“Nothing life-threatening,” Hua Cheng replies. “He’s only unconscious.”

Only.

Xie Lian almost laughs bitterly.

If there is anything Guardian Spirits hate nearly as much as curses, it is Hollows.

Mindless, soulless, nefarious things born somewhere deep within the abyss.

No one truly knew how Hollows came into existence. Some believed they were remnants of damned souls stripped of identity. Others thought they were beings born from resentment itself.

They possess no true bodies of their own.

Only shifting, transparent forms that drift like smoke through the mortal realm, invisible to ordinary human eyes.

But Hollows hunger endlessly for life.

For essence.

For spirit.

They feed first on weak mortals, hollowing them out from within before taking their forms for themselves. Wearing stolen flesh, they hunt Guardian Spirits in packs, draining spiritual Qi sip by sip in hopes of ascending into Elysium and escaping the abyss forever.

A handful of Hollows is rarely dangerous.

Any Guardian Spirit with sufficient spiritual power can destroy them easily. Moreover, Hollows cannot recklessly devour spirits overflowing with Qi without destroying themselves in the process.

Which is why they hunt together.

Hundreds against one.

Slowly consuming.

Slowly weakening.

Deadly through sheer numbers alone.

“A-Lian gege!”

A voice suddenly shouts from across the creek.

Xie Lian looks up to see Lang Qianqiu waving frantically from the opposite bank.

The White Tiger Spirit’s headband is stained with dirt and crooked from what is clearly a long journey.

“Do you still have the Celestial Balm?”

Xie Lian immediately nods. “Of course. I’ll bring it right away.”

The Celestial Balm is one of Xie Lian’s most treasured remedies—a careful blend of Whiteroot Ginseng and Moonlotus petals harvested during Blue Moons.

Qianqiu visibly relaxes. “Thank you!”

Then he disappears back into the crowd.

“San Lang—”

“It’s alright, gege,” Hua Cheng says quietly, already lifting himself from Xie Lian’s lap.

Though reluctant, he steps aside obediently. “Go finish your duties.”

Xie Lian smiles softly. Before rising, he bends forward until their foreheads rest gently together.

For one brief moment, Hua Cheng goes completely still.

Then— “Gege. Wait.”

Xie Lian blinks. “Mm?”

For perhaps the first time since ascending, Hua Cheng actually looks uncertain. “I was wondering…” he starts slowly. “Would gege perhaps like to attend the Moonveil Ceremony with me tonight?”

Xie Lian stares.

Hua Cheng never attends the ceremony. Not once.

He barely even appears during the Full Moon Festival unless absolutely necessary.

Yet now—

“With you?” Xie Lian repeats.

Hua Cheng immediately looks away. “It’s fine if gege doesn’t want to. I only thought—”

“YES.”

The answer leaves Xie Lian far too quickly.

Both of them blink.

Xie Lian clears his throat immediately, trying to regain some dignity. “I mean—yes. We can go together.”

For a moment, Hua Cheng simply stares at him. Then slowly, very slowly, his ears begin turning red beneath all that crimson fur.

“Alright,” he says quietly. “I’ll come pick gege up after my transformation.”

Something warm blooms inside Xie Lian’s chest. He smiles before he can stop himself. “I’ll wait for you.”

⇝⇝⇝⧪⇜⇜⇜

By the time Xie Lian returns after delivering the Celestial Balm for Quan Yizhen’s treatment, evening has already settled over Elysium.

The sun hangs low on the horizon, painting the clouds in shades of gold and rose.

Sunset.

Which means he barely has enough time to get ready.

In the past eight centuries, Xie Lian has attended the Moonveil Ceremony far less often than he would have liked.

The ceremony begins the moment the moon's reflection appears upon Stillheart Lake. Nestled within the eastern valleys of Mount Cangyan, the lake lies like a sheet of polished glass—clear, silent, and impossibly still.

No wind disturbs its surface.

No rain mars its reflection.

It simply exists, untouched by the passage of time.

Once the moon appears, Pei Ming, acting as the ceremonial head of Elysium, rings the great silver gong overlooking the lake, formally marking the beginning of the three-day festival.

After that, the entire realm awakens.

Rows of stalls overflowing with food and delicacies line the streets. Musicians gather beneath lantern-lit pavilions. Storytellers, dancers, performers, and artists fill every corner with life.

Elysium is abundant in resources. So no coins change hands, and no bargains are made. Every gift, every meal, every performance is freely offered.

For three nights, celebration itself becomes the currency of the realm.

Xie Lian intends to experience all of it this time.

Especially the Stillheart Lake.

There is an old story attached to the lake. It is said that the waters never ripple.

Not from wind.

Not from rain.

Not even from time itself.

Only when two hearts stand in perfect accord will a single ring bloom from the centre and spread across the surface.

Xie Lian would very much like to test whether that story is true, preferably with Hua Cheng.

What better way to determine whether the strange pull he feels toward his neighbour is genuine and not merely the result of centuries of loneliness?

“Where is my earring?” Xie Lian mutters, crouching beside his bed and begins digging through his treasure box.

The box contains every gift he has ever received from his friends.

Mu Qing’s Windtied ribbon, which Xie Lian wears around his neck whenever anxiety gets the better of him.

The Moonstone brooch Pei Ming once brought back from the mortal realm, entirely useless except for how beautifully it catches sunlight.

A slightly chipped heart-shaped pebble whose original owner has long since become a mystery.

Several folded sheets of Joss paper Quan Yizhen gifted him during the previous Winter Solstice.

A Hundred-knot cord Ban Yue made him for every time he tended to her wounds. And dozens of other keepsakes gathered throughout the centuries.

Unfortunately, the pearl stud is nowhere to be found.

It had been a gift from Feng Xin.

Back when Xie Lian first awakened alone in an unfamiliar forest with no memories and no understanding of who he was, Feng Xin had been the first spirit to approach him.

The first to offer friendship.

The first to stay.

Others had come and gone over the years; some drifted away naturally, while some stopped visiting altogether.

But Feng Xin remained.

The pearl stud had been the very first gift he brought Xie Lian from the mortal realm, years and years before he met Mu Qing. 

Xie Lian wanted to wear it tonight. It would have matched his robes perfectly.

For once, he is wearing something that hasn't been faded by years of use.

The Hanfu is fashioned from soft white silk, the fabric catching the evening light whenever he moves.

Fine silver embroidery curls along the hem in delicate cloud patterns and barely visible waves, appearing and disappearing like moonlight on water. A sash the colour of twilight wraps around his waist, tied neatly at his back.

The sleeves are broad and elegant, left mostly unadorned save for the faint shimmer woven into the fabric near his wrists—simple, comfortable and beautiful.

At least by Xie Lian's standards.

After another fruitless search, he shoves the treasure box back beneath the bed and begins opening the drawers of his wooden chest instead.

Papers.

More stones.

Several dried flowers.

Still no pearl stud.

Only three drawers remain unopened.

Xie Lian pauses. Those belong entirely to Hua Cheng.

Years upon years of gifts.

Poems.

Flowers.

Small treasures collected from the mortal realm.

Far too many items to sort through now.

With a resigned sigh, Xie Lian abandons the search altogether and reaches for the comb resting atop the table.

It's getting late. He should at least brush his hair before—

Knock. Knock. Knock.

A smile blooms instantly across Xie Lian’s face.

He glances toward the bronze mirror hanging beside the door, smoothing an imaginary crease from his sleeve and brushing away a nonexistent speck of dust from his robe.

“You've got this, Lianlian,” he mutters under his breath.

Then takes a steadying breath and opens the door.

For a moment, he forgets how to breathe.

Hua Cheng stands on the threshold.

Tall.

Very tall.

The crimson tunic he wears has been tailored perfectly to his frame. Silver-thread embroidery runs along the collar and down the front in patterns of blooming flowers and half-open butterflies. The crossed collar sits slightly lower, revealing the elegant line of his throat and a glimpse of bare skin beneath.

Black trousers cling to long legs before disappearing into polished boots. 

The dark eyepatch covering his right eye only seems to sharpen the brilliance of the left. And from his ears hang delicate crimson earrings that sway gently when he tilts his head.

“Gege?”

The quiet call finally jolts Xie Lian back to reality.

His mouth snaps shut.

Honestly, one would think he had never seen a human before.

“Um...” Xie Lian clears his throat. “San Lang, you're very...” His voice betrays him. “...very human tonight.”

A slow smile appears on Hua Cheng’s lips as he leans forward slightly. “That's disappointing, gege?”

Xie Lian nearly chokes. “No!”

The response comes far too quickly. “No. Absolutely not.”

The smile on Hua Cheng's face grows.

Xie Lian immediately steps aside before he can embarrass himself further. “Come in.”

Hua Cheng enters with the familiarity of someone who has crossed this threshold hundreds of times before.

Which, admittedly, he probably has.

Xie Lian’s house consists of little more than a single room, a bathing area, and a small outdoor kitchen.

Hua Cheng’s gaze sweeps across the room before landing on the pile of discarded garments and ribbons currently occupying most of the bed.

Xie Lian follows his gaze, mortification arriving immediately afterwards.

“Oh.”

He rushes forward.“These aren't usually—”

His explanation dies halfway through as he begins gathering the garments into his arms.

“Gege.”

“Mm?”

“What are you doing?”

“Cleaning.”

Hua Cheng looks unconvinced. “By shoving everything into the cupboard?”

“Something like that.”

Hua Cheng laughs.

The sound sends warmth spiralling through Xie Lian's chest. “Would you like something to drink?” he asks hurriedly.

“What do you have?”

Xie Lian freezes. “Um...Nothing?”

Hua Cheng raises an eyebrow.

“I can make something quickly,” Xie Lian adds.

The laugh that follows is even worse than the first. “That's alright, gege.” Then, softer: “Another time.”

The words shouldn't sound as intimate as they do. Yet somehow they linger.

Another time.

Hua Cheng pushes away from the table and steps closer.

“Actually,” he says, reaching into one of his sleeves, “I brought something for gege.”

Xie Lian immediately perks up. “A gift?”

A faint smile flickers across Hua Cheng's face.

From within his sleeve, he withdraws a hairpin. It appears to be carved from Shadow-wood, polished smooth as still water. Tiny butterflies rest along its length with wings half unfurled, their edges traced in fine silver.

Three delicate blossoms hang from slender chains near the end, trembling with the slightest movement. Nestled at the centre of each flower sits a crimson jewel no larger than a grain of rice.

The craftsmanship is breathtaking.

“San Lang...”

“It's called the Whisperhair Pin,” Hua Cheng explains. “One of the offerings I received from the mortal realm.”

Xie Lian stares at it, then at Hua Cheng and then back at the pin.

A hairpin.

Of all things, this gift feels strangely intimate. Almost sacred.

The sort of thing one gives to someone important. Someone cherished.

The thought sends his heart into another fit of chaos.

Hua Cheng extends the pin toward him. The gemstones glimmer softly beneath the warm glow of the oil lamp.

“May I put it on you?”

The question lands with surprising gentleness as though Hua Cheng is offering him a choice.

As though he would accept any answer.

Xie Lian swallows. Then nods. “Yes, please.”

For a moment, something almost startled flashes through Hua Cheng's expression. Then he smiles. “Alright.”

Xie Lian turns around.

The room suddenly feels far too small.

Far too warm.

Behind him, he hears Hua Cheng set the comb down against the table.

Then fingers slip gently into his hair.

The first stroke nearly makes him melt.

Slow.

Careful.

Patient.

Hua Cheng works through every tangle from root to tip until Xie Lian's hair falls like silk down his back.

Neither of them speaks. The silence somehow feels more intimate than conversation.

Once satisfied, Hua Cheng gathers the upper section of his hair and twists it loosely.

A moment later, the pin slides through. Cool fingertips brush the nape of Xie Lian's neck, and his breath catches.

The touch lasts only seconds, but it feels much longer.

Finally, he picks up the comb, brushing gently through the loose lengths of Xie Lian’s hair to settle them properly.

When Hua Cheng steps back, Xie Lian slowly turns around.

For a heartbeat, neither of them speaks.

Then Hua Cheng exhales. “So beautiful.”

The words are barely above a whisper.

Heat floods Xie Lian's face immediately. But this time he refuses to look away.

“It's San Lang who's beautiful,” he says, meeting Hua Cheng's gaze directly.

Hua Cheng blinks.

Once.

Twice.

As though the compliment genuinely caught him off guard.

Then he laughs. “I'm afraid I disagree.”

“San Lang—”

“I would argue that gege is the most exquisite being in all the realms.”

“That's ridiculous.”

“Not at all.”

Hua Cheng folds his arms. “I have conducted extensive research.”

Xie Lian frowns slightly, finally looking away. “San Lang is teasing me.”

“Gege,” Hua Cheng mutters. “I would never.”

The smile lingering on his lips softens. “This one's heart has always been sincere toward gege.”

The words strike something deep inside him suddenly. 

A memory?

No.

A dream.

A faceless man holding his hand.

A familiar voice whispering: “You won't find anyone more sincere than me.”

Xie Lian's breath catches.

These strange connections.

The growing certainty that something was trying desperately to be remembered.

Perhaps he should tell Hua Cheng.

“San Lang, I—”

GONG.

The sound explodes across Elysium.

A moment later, another follows.

Then another.

The great silver gong of Mount Cangyan.

The Moonveil Ceremony had begun.

Just like that, the moment shatters completely. 

Hua Cheng looks toward the window before turning back. “What is it, gege?”

Xie Lian hesitates.

The words linger on the tip of his tongue. But slowly, he shakes his head.

Maybe later.

“Nothing.”

A smile tugs at his lips. “Let's go.”

And together they step into the moonlit night.

⇝⇝⇝⧪⇜⇜⇜

Elysium is radiant by the time Xie Lian and Hua Cheng reach the main street.

Their homes lie only a few li from the heart of the festivities, but the realm feels transformed.

Unlike ordinary evenings, every pathway glows beneath rows of colourful lanterns suspended between trees and rooftops. Ye Ming Zhu stones shine softly from shrubs and flowerbeds, casting pools of silver and gold across the roads.

Everywhere, spirits-turned-humans linger together.

Some stroll hand in hand.

Some cuddle beneath trees.

Others are considerably less subtle.

Xie Lian immediately averts his eyes when he notices one man's hand disappearing beneath the waistband of his mate's trousers.

His face heats instantly.

Even though open intimacies like this are normalized during the festival, Xie Lian—in the words of Mu Qing—is “too much of a prude”. 

In Xie Lian's defence, his complete neglect of anything to do with mating or courtship was largely responsible.

For centuries, he had longed for companionship.

For someone to come home to.

Someone to stay.

Yet strangely enough, he had rarely spent much time imagining anything beyond that.

Sex has been a long-forgotten dream. 

Until—

His gaze drifts sideways toward Hua Cheng.

The smile lingering on Hua Cheng's face catches him immediately.

Xie Lian's heart skips, and he quickly returns the smile before looking away.

Unfortunately, his face feels suspiciously warm afterwards.

Soon, the gilded gates of Thousand-Wish Street rise before them—grand, inviting and alive with light.

The street takes its name from an old tradition practised throughout Elysium.

Every stall hangs red wish-ribbons from its posts and awnings.

Throughout the evening, spirits write their hopes upon them. By midnight, the ribbons glow softly with accumulated wishes before lifting into the heaven like crimson stars.

Xie Lian has never written one.

Not once.

But this year, he already knows exactly what he would wish for. The thought makes his chest tighten pleasantly.

The moment they step through the gates, chaos greets them.

Red ribbons flutter overhead.

Lanterns sway.

The scent of fried dough, sugar, roasted chestnuts, and sweet fruits fills the air.

Music drifts from every direction. The melodies of pipa, guqin, and dizi weave together into something lively and warm.

People dance wherever space allows.

Those whose mates have yet to ascend—or who simply haven't found one yet—dance alone beneath the lanterns.

Xie Lian spots Ban Yue among them, laughing as she spins with a group of friends.

Others are less restrained. Like Pei Ming, who is currently occupied with what appears to be his fifth mate of the year.

They are kissing and grinding in full view of everyone.

Xie Lian quickly looks elsewhere, suddenly feeling very out of place.

"Gege."

Hua Cheng's voice cuts cleanly through the noise.

"Mm?"

He points toward a nearby stall wreathed in fragrant steam. "Want to try some sweets?"

There are fewer people gathered there than at the neighbouring stalls.

Grateful for the distraction, Xie Lian nods immediately. "Okay."

Without hesitation, Hua Cheng catches hold of his sleeve and begins guiding him through the crowd.

Xie Lian laughs as he's pulled along. "San Lang, slow down." Only to stop abruptly once they reach the stall. "What is that?"

On the tray are little pastries shaped like butterflies, their wings dusted with powdered sugar that glows faintly blue. When they cool, the sugar crystallizes into tiny frost patterns. 

The vendor beams proudly.

"Moonwing Cakes." She gestures toward the tray. "One bite and you'll taste the first snow of the year."

“See?” Hua Cheng says, already picking one up with two fingers. He holds it to Xie Lian’s lips, eye bright and way too innocent. “Come on. For me?”

Xie Lian hesitates for a moment, then leans forward and takes a small bite.

The pastry melts on his tongue—sweet, cold, and a little floral, like winter and osmanthus at once. 

His eyes widen. "Mm!"

The vendor looks smug.

"It's good," Xie Lian admits. "Light, but not overly sweet."

He breaks the remaining pastry in half and extends one piece toward Hua Cheng. "Here."

But Hua Cheng doesn't take it.

Instead, he simply watches.

Xie Lian pauses.

The single visible eye remains fixed on him.

Not the pastry.

Him.

Specifically, his mouth.

The realization arrives all at once as Xie Lian lowers his hand. "San Lang?"

"Hm?"

"Why aren't you eating?"

A slow smile appears on his face. One that should honestly be illegal. "I am."

Xie Lian blinks. "Hm?"

Hua Cheng leans forward slightly, which somehow feels far closer than before. "Gege looks sweeter."

Xie Lian immediately forgets how his legs function.

"The—what—San Lang—"

Hua Cheng laughs—bright, unrestrained and beautiful. "I was joking, gege."

He finally takes the pastry from Xie Lian's hand. Then deliberately bites into the exact place where Xie Lian had already taken a bite. "Tastes even better now."

Xie Lian freezes.

Is he...

Is he flirting with me?

Before he can investigate this alarming possibility further, a familiar voice suddenly cuts through the crowd.

Loud.

Excited.

And impossible to ignore.

"A-Lian!"

A streak of turquoise barrels through the crowd as Shi Qingxuan arrives like a small natural disaster. "I can't believe you're actually here!"

He grabs both of Xie Lian's hands dramatically. "Why?"

Xie Lian blinks. "Huh?"

"What do you mean 'huh'?" Shi Qingxuan demands. "You never come to the Ceremony willingly. Last time I practically dragged you here."

Before Xie Lian can answer, another figure appears behind Qingxuan.

He Xuan.

Without so much as a greeting, He Xuan reaches out, grabs Hua Cheng by the arm, and immediately steers him toward the opposite side of the street.

"Hm?" Hua Cheng glances back.

"Come."

Xie Lian watches them disappear into the crowd. A frown immediately appears on his face. "Where are they going?"

Shi Qingxuan waves dismissively. "He-Xiong probably wants to discuss something."

Then he leans forward. “But tell me why you're here."

"What?"

"What changed?"

Xie Lian scratches the back of his neck. He feels oddly shy. "San Lang invited me."

Shi Qingxuan freezes. "HOLY ELYSIUM."

Several people nearby turn around.

Shi Qingxuan doesn't care. "Really?"

Xie Lian nods. “En”. 

A small smile sneaks onto his face despite himself. "Do you think that means anything?"

Shi Qingxuan looks personally offended by the question. "Of course, it means something. I keep telling you he's your mate."

Xie Lian immediately reddens. "Qingxuan..."

"And whatever you're feeling is definitely reciprocated."

"Or..."

Another voice cuts through the conversation as Mu Qing steps into view.

Feng Xin trails behind him with the exhausted expression of someone already regretting whatever is about to happen.

"Or," Mu Qing continues, "he invited you so he could gently let you down and introduce you to his mate."

Silence.

Feng Xin closes his eyes before promptly smacking the back of Mu Qing's head.

"Ow!"

"Mu Qing," Feng Xin says through clenched teeth. "Can't you be nice for once?"

Mu Qing immediately elbows him in retaliation. "What?" He folds his arms. "I'm being realistic."

Shi Qingxuan looks horrified. "Realistic?"

"Yes."

Mu Qing points toward the crowd. "Hua Cheng never attends the ceremony."

Everyone nods reluctantly.

"Every month he disappears for three days."

More nodding.

"And now suddenly he's inviting Xie Lian?"

Shi Qingxuan throws his hands up. "That sounds exactly like a date!"

Mu Qing scoffs. "I don't think so."

"Why?"

"Because Yin Yu mentioned something interesting."

The smile vanishes from Xie Lian's face. 

Yin Yu, the Deer Spirit, is one of Hua Cheng’s closest companions besides He Xuan. 

Mu Qing continues casually. "Apparently, Hua Cheng already has someone."

"What?" Feng Xin blurts.

"What?" Shi Qingxuan echoes.

Mu Qing nods. "A mate."

"A very important one."

"A noble, gracious, special someone."

Xie Lian feels something unpleasant drop straight into his stomach.

Suddenly, the lanterns seem too bright.

The music too loud.

The crowd too overwhelming.

"A mate?" he repeats quietly.

Mu Qing winces. For the first time, he seems to realise how badly that landed. "I didn't mention it earlier because I didn't want to upset you."

Feng Xin stares at him. “Way to go then.” He points directly at Xie Lian. "Look at his face."

Xie Lian swallows. His throat feels strangely tight. "But..."

His fingers rise automatically toward his hair. "Tonight he gave me this."

Slowly, he turns around, showing the Whisperhair Pin.

Shi Qingxuan gasps. "Oh, that definitely means something."

"Exactly!" Feng Xin says.

Mu Qing studies the pin. Then clasps his hands together thoughtfully. "Mm. It's confirmed."

Hope sparks briefly inside Xie Lian's chest.

But—

"He's definitely letting you down with a gift."

Feng Xin punches his shoulder. 

"WHAT? Why am I getting punched?" Mu Qing rubs his arm indignantly. "Gifts don't automatically mean romance.”

He points at Xie Lian. "We all give him gifts."

Shi Qingxuan looks ready to start climbing walls. "But what about the way Hua Cheng acts around him?"

Mu Qing rolls his eyes. "I cuddle with you all the time when we're in our spirit forms."

He points directly at Shi Qingxuan. "Does that mean I'm secretly in love with you?"

Shi Qingxuan opens his mouth.

Then closes it.

"...No?"

"Exactly."

Mu Qing gestures toward He Xuan. "Besides, your enormous husband would drown me."

He Xuan raises a hand from somewhere within the crowd.

Mu Qing immediately lowers his. "...See?"

Xie Lian’s heart is slowly cracking apart.

Piece by piece. 

Maybe Mu Qing is right.

Maybe Hua Cheng truly does have someone.

Someone he's been spending every Full Moon with.

Someone beautiful.

Someone worthy.

Someone who isn't Xie Lian.

Suddenly, the hairpin feels unbearably heavy.

"Gege."

The familiar voice cuts through the noise instantly.

Everyone turns.

Hua Cheng is jogging back toward them through the crowd. That easy smile already finds Xie Lian.

Mu Qing leans closer. "Just be careful with your heart."

For once, there is no teasing, only concern.

Xie Lian doesn't answer. His eyes remain fixed on Hua Cheng.

On the smile.

On the man who suddenly feels much further away than he did a moment ago.

He feels foolish.

Embarrassed.

Heartbroken.

All at once.

Beside him, Shi Qingxuan squeezes his shoulder. "Take care, A-Lian."

Then He Xuan appears and promptly drags him away.

"Wait—He Xiong—I wasn't finished—"

They disappear into the crowd.

Feng Xin lingers a moment longer. Then, pats Xie Lian gently on the back. "If you need anything, call us."

Xie Lian nods.

Feng Xin gives Hua Cheng one long suspicious look before following Mu Qing into the sea of lanterns.

And suddenly—

It's just the two of them again.

Hua Cheng slows to a stop in front of him. "Gege?" His smile falters slightly. "Did something happen?"

Nothing, except that my heart is cracking into ten pieces…. Xie Lian thinks. 

But he forces a smile and shakes his head. "It’s nothing." His voice sounds strangely distant to his own ears. "Shall we leave?"

If possible, Xie Lian would like to return home and wallow in private.

The increasingly painful possibility that Hua Cheng belonged to someone else was difficult enough to bear without the festival around them.

Not to mention the stink eye he kept receiving from others. It would be better to leave.

Better to stop embarrassing himself.

Hua Cheng blinks. "Already?" His brows pull together immediately. "Are you feeling unwell?"

The slight pout lingering on Hua Cheng's lips nearly breaks his resolve. He looks so small like this, like Xie Lian has suddenly admonished him. 

"No, no," he says quickly. "It's nothing like that."

He sighs inwardly. Perhaps he can survive a little longer.

"Where to next?"

For a moment, Hua Cheng studies him. That single eye searches his face carefully as if trying to determine whether Xie Lian is telling the truth.

Then, slowly, his expression brightens. "Actually..." A smile appears on his face before it increases in size. 

"I was planning to take gege somewhere."

Warning bells immediately begin ringing inside Xie Lian's head. 

His stomach drops.

This is it.

He's taking me to meet them.

"Uh—Where?" he manages.

"Not far." Hua Cheng's says eagerly. "Only a few li away."

Xie Lian should refuse.

Invent an excuse.

Claim exhaustion.

Pretend he forgot to water his garden.

Anything.

But Hua Cheng looks so eager and excited that Xie Lian finds himself nodding. "Alright."

For a moment, Hua Cheng looks uncertain as though he senses something strange beneath the answer. Then excitement wins, and his grin returns in full force.

"I've wanted to take you there for a long time."

Oh no.

Definitely a mate.

Absolutely, a mate.

Xie Lian looks around to see if he can catch a glimpse of his friends. 

But more and more people are pouring into the ceremony, and he fails to focus on anyone particular. 

For years, he had tried not to dwell on the curse. Not because it stopped bothering, but because he had learned to live around the wound.

Whenever anyone asked about it, his answer remained unchanged.

I don't remember.

Not the curse.

Not who cast it.

Not why.

But now… Now he wonders. Maybe the curse had always been tied to love.

Maybe someone had cursed him never to have it.

Maybe—

"Gege…?"

A hand touches his arm.

Xie Lian blinks, and the world rushes back.

Hua Cheng is staring at him, concern written plainly across his face. "What happened?"

Only then does Xie Lian realise he is one step away from walking directly into a bush. "I—"

"HOLLOWS!"

Hua Cheng and Xie Lian are just outside the gate when a loud scream erupts from behind them. 

Everything freezes.

Then a sharp cry follows.

Then another.

Panic explodes behind them.

Xie Lian turns instinctively.

The crowd is scattering.

People sprinting in every direction.

Several lanterns crash to the ground.

But before he can make sense of anything, a hand closes around his wrist.

Hard.

"San Lang—"

Hua Cheng drags him behind a cluster of bushes bordering the road and pushes him down.

The movement is so sudden that Xie Lian nearly stumbles.

"Gege, stay here."

"What?"

"I'll go check."

Xie Lian immediately stands up. "No." He tries to step past him. "I'll come with you."

The reaction is immediate. Hua Cheng catches his arms and pushes him down. “No.”

The word comes out sharp and panicked, unlike anything Xie Lian has ever heard from him. "San Lang—"

"Please." Hua Cheng's breathing turns uneven as he crouches in front of him.

"Gege, please. You..." he pauses, chest heaving rapidly like he's struggling to breathe. "You don't have powers." 

Xie Lian frowns. Nobody has powers today except their physical strength and their latent spiritual essence.

"You don't have powers either, San Lang..." Xie Lian says calmly. "Not until.." He trails off.

Only after mating or receiving a sufficient amount of yang energy can a male spirit-turned-human utilize their spiritual energy in this form.

Hua Cheng's eye widens instantly before he shakes his head. "No.”

His voice breaks. “That's not what..." 

Tears pool immediately in his eye, and Xie Lian's heart halts for a moment. "San—" 

"Please." The word comes out almost strangled. 

Hua Cheng grips his sleeves. "Please."

For a moment, he looks at him like someone standing at the edge of a cliff.

Then his gaze drops, and a sob leaves his throat. "I beg you. Don't..." 

Xie Lian stills. "What?"

But another sob leaves his throat as he falls forward on Xie Lian’s chest. "Don't do it, gege." 

Without thinking, Xie Lian reaches for him. "Okay. Okay…" His arms slide around Hua Cheng immediately. "I won’t go."

The tension in Hua Cheng's body breaks all at once as he buries his face into Xie Lian's neck and clings.

Xie Lian's heart aches. He has never seen Hua Cheng like this.

“Gege, I—”

"Breathe, San Lang…” Xie Lian says, rubbing slow circles along Hua Cheng’s back. “You're okay.”

The words come instinctively.

"We're okay."

For several long moments, Hua Cheng says nothing. Only sobs silently as tears wet Xie Lian’s neck.

It doesn't make sense that one of the powerful Guardian Spirits in the realm is scared of Hollows. 

Even though everyone is at their weakest tonight, Hollows do not stand a chance against thousands of Guardian Spirits gathered together. 

A strange sense of protectiveness washes over Xie Lian.

A strong urge to shield and fight for this man in his arms. 

Xie Lian hugs him tighter, cradling the back of his head, repeating soft assurances again and again. 

Slowly, Hua Cheng steadily breathes, and gradually, the shaking begins to ease.

Finally, he speaks. A rough exhale against Xie Lian's shoulder. "This is why I never attend."

Xie Lian pauses. "What?"

"The festival."

Hua Cheng’s arms tighten around him briefly. "And the one time I decide to..."

The sentence trails off.

Xie Lian pulls back slightly. "What do you mean?"

"I guard the borders, gege.” Hua Cheng says. “ I know how these wretched things prey on us during these days." 

Understanding dawns slowly. "You've been protecting Elysium?"

"En," Hua Cheng nods.

Xie Lian stares.

For centuries, he had wondered where Hua Cheng had disappeared to.

All this time...

"I thought you..."

The rest dies in his throat.

Hua Cheng blinks. "Wait. hang on, Gege." Then presses two fingers on his temple. 

Someone is calling.

"What?"

A pause.

"I see."

His arm wraps around Xie Lian's shoulders, automatically pulling him to his chest.

"So it's over now?"

Another pause.

Then: "You're certain?"

Xie Lian remains pressed against that warm chest throughout the entire conversation. That soft rise and fall feels oddly natural. 

Comforting.

"Alright." Hua Cheng finally lowers his hand.

“Who was that?”

"Yin Yu,” Hua Cheng breathes. “A cluster of Hollows was hiding in Quan Yizhen's fur."

Xie Lian's eyes widen. "What?"

"Apparently, they survived the earlier attack. But He Xuan caught them."

A faint smile appears. "They're dead now."

Relief washes through Xie Lian immediately before he looks back at Hua Cheng.

The lingering tension.

The redness around his eye.

The exhaustion.

"But San Lang…" Xie Lian begins, gently wiping the tear tracks on his cheeks. "Are you alright? I’ve never seen you like this before."

The question seems to catch Hua Cheng off guard. 

For a moment, he simply stares. Then lowers his gaze.

Xie Lian doesn't hesitate before pulling him back into another embrace. "If anything happens," he says softly, "I'll protect you."

The arms tighten around Xie Lian, and their cheeks brush against each other momentarily.

"Gege won't let anything happen to you."

Hua Cheng stays silent for a few moments. Then slowly: "I know." The words are almost inaudible. 

There’s something else murmured against Xie Lian's shoulder that he doesn’t quite catch.

"Mm? What did you say?"

But Hua Cheng pulls back; the familiar smile has returned—gentle, tender and painfully fond.

"Nothing."

His fingers brush Xie Lian's cheek. "Let's go."

⇝⇝⇝⧪⇜⇜⇜

For a while, neither of them speaks.

The festival continues behind them. Music recommences, and people laugh as if nothing has happened.  

The distant ringing of bells fades as each step carries them farther away until there’s only a soft murmur beneath the night sky.

Xie Lian glances around.

This is definitely not the direction they were walking earlier. 

"San Lang?"

"Hm?"

“Why are we going the other way?"

Hua Cheng continues walking, eye fixed on the faintly lit path ahead. "We can visit that place later."

"Oh?" For some reason, Xie Lian’s voice comes out quieter than before.

Hua Cheng looks at him, then stops. 

A flicker of uncertainty passes through his face as he takes a deep breath. "Right now, I just want to be with you.” A pause, “And only you."

Xie Lian nearly trips over his own feet; his heart performing something alarming inside his chest.

"Oh."

That’s… a truly eloquent response.

Beside him, Hua Cheng's smile widens slightly.

And Xie Lian immediately looks away as the tips of his ears burn.

“Only you…”

Ridiculous.

Absolutely ridiculous.

The rest of the walk passes in a blur. Yet somehow he cannot stop smiling…

The place Hua Cheng eventually leads him to is a hill overlooking Elysium. It’s not a famous landmark nor a sacred site, just a quiet stretch of grass beneath the moon.

Below them, thousands of lanterns glow across the realm like fallen stars.

The festival lights shimmer in the distance. 

Beautiful.

Far enough away to be peaceful but close enough to remind them that the celebration still exists.

Xie Lian lowers himself onto the grass as a cool breeze brushes his face. For the first time all evening, he feels completely at ease.

Hua Cheng sits beside him just enough that their shoulders nearly touch.

Silence settles between them—comfortable, warm, and safe.

What happened earlier… is not something Xie Lian can ever forget. He wasn’t lying when he said he’s never seen Hua Cheng this shaken before. 

There’s no reason for a man like Hua Cheng, who was the army general of a kingdom in his mortal years and later became one of the powerful Guardian Spirits, to be afraid of something as insignificant as Hollows. 

The way he broke down in Xie Lian's arms only implies some obvious past with those creatures.

Yet what lingers in Xie Lian's mind isn't Hua Cheng's fear.

It's the way Hua Cheng had reached for him. The way those arms had tightened around him as though Xie Lian was the only safe place left in the world.

As selfish as it sounds, Xie Lian had liked that.

No.

More than liked… he has loved it. 

The memory settles warmly somewhere beneath his ribs.

When Hua Cheng held him tighter, Xie Lian had wanted to hold him tighter in return.

When Hua Cheng trembled, he had wanted to shield him from whatever haunted him.

When that brown eye filled with panic, Xie Lian had wanted to annihilate anything capable of causing it.

The thought should probably alarm him.

Instead, it feels strangely natural. As though protecting Hua Cheng is the most obvious thing in the world.

Xie Lian finds himself recalling that moment again and again when a strange sensation pulses beneath the bandages wrapped around his wrist.

“Ah!” He winces immediately. 

It’s not painful, just… odd.

“Gege?” Hua Cheng notices right away.

"Hm?"

"What happened?"

Xie Lian blinks, his fingers automatically rubbing against the cloth. "It feels strange."

Hua Cheng's attention has already fixed on his wrist. The concern appears instantly. "What feels strange?"

"My wrist."

Hua Cheng straightens. "Are you hurt?"

Xie Lian startles. “I—” he sighs. "I think I may have sprained it earlier… when we were hiding behind the bush."

Hua Cheng’s eye widens before he looks downward. “Did I do something?”

“Oh, no, San Lang,” Xie Lian says quickly, reaching out to gently touch his arm. "I'm sure it's nothing."

Hua Cheng's gaze lingers on the bandages. "You should check."

The smile immediately slips from Xie Lian's face. "I don't like looking at it."

The words seem to surprise Hua Cheng.

Xie Lian lowers his gaze. "The curse mark." A soft laugh escapes him, though there is very little amusement in it. "I know it's silly."

"It's not." The answer comes instantly.

Xie Lian looks up. Hua Cheng's expression has become unreadable.

"I almost never remove the bandages." He tries to make it sound casual.

"Not even after baths,” he laughs softly. “I let it air dry..."

His fingers tighten slightly around his wrist. "I prefer pretending it isn't there."

For some reason, Hua Cheng suddenly looks as though someone has struck him. A strange sadness settles across his features. It’s brief before it’s gone almost immediately. "Does it bother gege that much?"

The question is so quiet Xie Lian almost misses it. His chest tightens. "It used to."

Hua Cheng looks up.

Xie Lian smiles. "Not anymore."

Because somewhere along the way, he stopped defining himself by a curse, stopped wondering why nobody wanted him, stopped waiting for answers that never came.

Perhaps because certain fox spirits had made loneliness much harder to maintain.

The thought nearly makes him laugh. "I'll check it when I get home."

The worry doesn't entirely leave Hua Cheng's face, but he nods."Alright."

The silence returns afterwards. 

Not awkward, simply peaceful. The kind that only exists between people who enjoy each other's company.

Xie Lian leans back onto his hands.

Above them, the moon hangs enormous and silver.

Beautiful.

For a while, he simply watches the lights below.

Then his gaze drifts and stays on the man next to him

Hua Cheng is looking out across the realm, moonlight catching on his hair, on the curve of his jaw.

Xie Lian's breath catches unexpectedly.

Like this, Hua Cheng is unfairly beautiful. Not in the distant way statues are beautiful, or in the untouchable way stars are beautiful.

But something worse. Something much more dangerous. 

The sort of beauty that makes a person want to move closer… that makes a person want to stay.

As though sensing the stare, Hua Cheng turns.

Their eyes meet, and neither looks away.

The world suddenly feels very quiet. 

Very small.

The music below disappears.

The wind fades.

There is only Hua Cheng… only that alluring eye and that tempting warmth entirely focused on him.

Xie Lian's heartbeat stumbles, and for the first time all evening, a thought rises clear and undeniable.

He doesn't want tonight to end.

Tomorrow will come, the festival will continue, and life will return to normal. But this moment—this quiet hill, this moonlit night, this man sitting beside him—

Xie Lian wants to keep it.

Selfishly.

Desperately.

Forever, if possible.

The thought startles him. Yet before he can examine it, words slip out.

"I'm so glad you ascended."

Hua Cheng freezes for a moment before his expression turns to something fragile.

Something that looks dangerously close to heartbreak.

Then gratitude.

Then disbelief.

Then something else.

Something so raw Xie Lian cannot name it.

When Hua Cheng finally speaks, his voice sounds rough. "So am I, gege."

The air changes subtly.

Neither of them moves or looks away.

Slowly—

Very slowly—

Hua Cheng's gaze drops to Xie Lian's mouth.

It lasts only for a second before it returns to his eyes.

Xie Lian's pulse skips, heat flooding his face.

Neither of them speaks.

The distance between them suddenly feels impossibly small.

One breath.

Perhaps two.

That was all.

His attention falls briefly to Hua Cheng's lips… and stays.

The realisation hits him a moment later.

Oh.

Oh.

For one terrifying second, Xie Lian thinks—

Maybe—

Perhaps—

Hua Cheng's eyes soften, his shoulders shift as though he might lean closer.

At least that’s what Xie Lian thinks.

The night holds its breath, then suddenly, Hua Cheng closes his eye briefly before opening it again.

Something has changed. The softness remains, but so does restraint.

He rises smoothly to his feet. "It's getting late."

The words hit much harder than they should as Xie Lian stares, momentarily unable to process what just happened.

Or what almost happened.

"Ah."

A brilliant response… once again.

The smile on his face is gentle as Hua Cheng offers him a hand. "Shall I walk gege home?"

Xie Lian places his hand in Hua Cheng's and tries very hard not to think about the fact that he is suddenly, inexplicably disappointed.

The walk back feels far too short.

But somewhere beneath the bandages around his wrist, the tingling continues.

⇝⇝⇝⧪⇜⇜⇜

The next day, Xie Lian wakes up early. 

Sleep has been fickle and full of dreams. 

The faceless man from his dream has started to look like Hua Cheng now. 

No matter how many times Xie Lian had woken up and then tried to go back to sleep, his dreams had been similar. 

Xie Lian and his mate, running on a large cloister—laughing and carefree, only to tumble on the ground. Soft kisses were pressed all over his face before his mate’s lips found his, kissing like they had nowhere to be. 

Xie Lian had woken up, feeling so giddy and cherished, before the disappointment crushed him like it always did. 

The next time he fell asleep, the dreams continued. This time, it had been explicit. 

He and his mate were inside an opulent room, sitting on a bed, while an old man who could be a physician, coldly stitched a nasty gash on his mate’s arm. 

Xie Lian’s mate, who bore an uncanny resemblance to Hua Cheng, was wearing battle armour, significantly damaged on the same arm. 

His mate winced when the physician’s needle pierced him every time, biting his lower lip until blood trickled from the flesh. Xie Lian, who had been caressing his mate’s face, promptly leaned forward, capturing those lips in a deep kiss. 

They kissed hungrily, unabating, even when the wound had been dressed, and the physician left. Xie Lian had then climbed onto his mate’s lap, frantically removing the metal plate and the gambeson before kissing every patch of skin he could find. 

Whispers of ‘husband’ and ‘beloved’ were repeated between the two as they fell on the bed, hands roaming each other’s bodies like they had been deprived of the other for too long. 

His mate had whispered something to him, but Xie Lian’s body decided to wake up just then, ripping him from the loving arms of his dream man. 

Xie Lian had woken up in sweats and painfully aroused. 

For a moment, he entertained the idea of submitting to his body’s need. It would be so good to close his eyes and wrap a hand over his hard cock. He could think of his mate, the one who looks like his San Lang and imagine how that dream would progress. 

Will they make love on that massive bed? Touch and pleasure each other like lovers do?

Mm… Xie Lian would. 

He would have stripped them both naked, kissed his mate all over till every pain was eased. Only then would he enter him, or take him inside, pleasuring his beloved, slow and steady until every ache turns into ecstasy.  

The thoughts lingered only for a few moments before guilt drowned him under his own shamelessness. 

It took him so much longer to fall back to sleep after that. But, when he did, it had been fitful and short. 

Xie Lian rises slowly from the bed and follows his morning routine. His wrist is no longer tingling. However, he still refuses to open the bandage. 

He doesn’t want the gnawing reminder of his eternal loneliness, which stings even more after yesterday. 

Last night, they had a perfect moment to kiss beneath the moonlit sky.

Xie Lian had been ready.

More than ready.

He had kept his gaze fixed on Hua Cheng's. He had not looked away, had not retreated. He might even have leaned forward.

Just a little.

Only for Hua Cheng to step back first.

The memory makes his chest ache. Something like that would never happen if Hua Cheng returned his feelings, and certainly not if Hua Cheng were his soulmate.

The thought should not sting as much as it does. Yet it lingers, quiet and persistent like a bruise.

Xie Lian exhales slowly. No matter what, he and Hua Cheng will continue exactly as they always have.

Neighbours.

Friends.

Gege and San Lang.

That is already more than Xie Lian ever expected to have.

More than he deserves, perhaps.

Xie Lian is just about to cook some breakfast when he hears a thudding sound from Hua Cheng’s house, followed by the clattering of something falling on the floor. 

Alarmed, he quickly rushes to the window overlooking Hua Cheng’s house.

According to what he mentioned yesterday, Hua Cheng must be at Elysium’s border, guarding the realm. 

So what’s happening?

He swiftly unlatches the window, only to be met with the view of Hua Cheng pushing himself from the ground haggardly. 

He is wearing a black inner robe; one sleeve slips past his shoulder as he twists the same arm at a weird angle behind his back. He picks something from the floor with his other hand, then huffs as he sits back on the bed. 

“San Lang,” Xie Lian shouts, grabbing his neighbour’s attention. 

Hua Cheng perks up instantly, walking to the window and waving at him with a grin before wincing immediately.

Clearly, there’s something wrong with his arm. 

"What happened?" Xie Lian asks.

For a brief moment, Hua Cheng looks genuinely confused. Then he follows Xie Lian's gaze to his arm. "Oh." A smile appears immediately. 

"It's nothing, gege."

"Nonsense." Xie Lian folds his arms. "I can see you're in pain."

The smile falters, only slightly. Hua Cheng glances away and rubs at his temple. "It's just a scratch."

The answer sounds suspiciously unconvincing. Then, after a pause:

"I seem to have developed a fever."

"What?" The word escapes before Xie Lian can stop it. He catches himself immediately.

"Ah... I mean..."

Wonderful Lianlian.

Very smooth.

Xie Lian clears his throat. "I have some medicine, if San Lang would like it."

Hua Cheng studies him quietly as though he can see straight through the awkward attempt at composure.

The corner of his mouth lifts. "I don't want to trouble gege."

"You aren't." The answer comes too quickly, and Xie Lian winces internally.

"You aren't troubling me," he repeats carefully.

For a moment, neither of them speaks.

Something soft passes through Hua Cheng's expression. 

Relief, perhaps or gratitude—Xie Lian doesn’t quite know. 

"Then..." Hua Cheng says quietly, "...if gege doesn't mind."

"Of course." Xie Lian is already reaching for his medicine box near the window. "I'll be right there."

The smile Hua Cheng gives him this time is impossibly gentle. "Thank you, gege."

⇝⇝⇝⧪⇜⇜⇜

By the time Xie Lian reaches Hua Cheng's house, with his medicine box clutched so tight that his fingers ache.

He had packed every essential, like powdered herbs for fever and wound healing, bandages for wound dressing and some herbal tonics and oils for aches and sprains. 

Once he reaches the front door, Xie Lian takes a deep breath and then knocks. 

Once.

Twice.

"Come in, gege."

The familiar voice immediately sends warmth flooding through his chest.

Xie Lian pushes the door open. 

The house is exactly like his—simple, comfortable, with sunlight spilling through the windows.

Hua Cheng is sitting on the bed next to the window. 

The sight nearly stops him in his tracks.

Hua Cheng looks exhausted. Far more exhausted than he had appeared through the window.

His skin is pale, shadows lingering beneath his eyes as his hair hangs loose around his shoulders. One side of his black robe has slipped down slightly, exposing a stretch of bare skin that Xie Lian absolutely should not be staring at.

Naturally, he stares.

For several beats. 

Before looking away.

Shameless.

He is absolutely shameless.

"Gege?"

The amusement in Hua Cheng's voice only makes things worse.

Xie Lian clears his throat. "You should be lying down."

"I was." A smile appears on his neighbour’s face. "Until gege came to visit me."

Xie Lian’s heart promptly forgets how to function. But he decides not to acknowledge that statement.

He walks over and places the medicine box beneath the bed before sitting beside Hua Cheng. 

Closer than necessary.

Not that he's thinking about that.

Not at all.

"You said you have a fever?"

"En."

Without thinking, Xie Lian lifts a hand and presses the back of his palm against Hua Cheng's forehead.

Warm.

Definitely warm.

But before he can pull away, Hua Cheng chuckles, "That's not the proper way," and then leans forward to press their foreheads together. 

"This is the proper way," he whispers. 

Every coherent thought immediately abandons him as Xie Lian’s eyes shut instinctively.

Everything is warm.

Far too warm. And not because of the fever.

Their noses are nearly brushing, and their breaths mingle.

Xie Lian forgets what to do next, but after several agonizing seconds, he finally manages to retreat.

"Y-you um—definitely have a fever."

Excellent.

Very dignified, Lianlian.

Hua Cheng's smile widens.

But Xie Lian refuses to look directly at him. "You'll be fine after some medicine and rest."

"Then I'll leave myself in gege's capable hands."

The warmth in Xie Lian's face intensifies dangerously. He clears his throat. "How did this happen anyway? You seemed perfectly fine last night."

At that, Hua Cheng lifts his injured arm, then turns slightly. 

The movement causes him to wince.

Immediately, Xie Lian frowns. "What happened?"

"He Xuan and I had a disagreement."

"What?"

Hua Cheng nods. Then hums. "He scratched me."

For a moment, Xie Lian simply stares. "He scratched you?"

"En."

"Like a cat?"

"Essentially."

Xie Lian is horrified. "You are both several centuries old."

"I know."

"And this is how you solve disagreements?"

"I wouldn't say solve."

Xie Lian glares, but Hua Cheng looks entirely unapologetic.

This man has a fever, an injured arm, and somehow still manages to look pleased with himself.

"You need to take better care of yourself, San Lang."

"En."

"That means avoiding unnecessary injuries."

"En."

"And seeking treatment immediately."

"En."

Xie Lian sighs. "Are you listening to me?"

"I always listen to gege."

Xie Lian abruptly stops speaking as the tips of his ears begin to burn. 

Hua Cheng looks far too innocent like this—with soft eye and flushed cheeks.

Xie Lian wishes he could press his lips over those cheeks. Instead, he shakes his head and to further avoid exposing his inner thoughts, reaches for Hua Cheng's arm. "Let me see."

The wound isn't serious, just some shallow scratches and some dried blood—nothing alarming. 

Still, Xie Lian doesn't like it. "It should be cleaned properly."

"I was trying to." Hua Cheng says, pointing toward the floor.

Only then does Xie Lian notice the overturned bowl.

"It fell."

"I'll get more water." Xie Lian stands up and takes the bowl before Hua Cheng can object.

Outside, the creek winds quietly through the grass, and Xie Lian kneels beside it.

The cool water should help clear his thoughts.

Unfortunately, it does the exact opposite. Because the moment he is alone, his mind immediately returns to last night's dream.

The injured arm.

The battle armour.

The physician.

The passionate kisses.

His face grows hot.

Again.

What kind of person dreams about comforting an injured soulmate by kissing him senseless?

Apparently, Xie Lian does.

He groans softly and scoops some water into the bowl.

This friendship arrangement is becoming increasingly difficult. Every day Hua Cheng grows more beautiful, more precious, and more impossible to ignore.

And now he is sitting inside that house looking pale and feverish and vulnerable.

Xie Lian wants to kiss him or at least hold him in his arms. But—

No.

Absolutely not. He can’t. 

With a sigh, he rises and returns inside.

He promptly sits on the bed, trying to place the water bowl on the table, when—

“Oh no…" 

Water starts dripping onto the bed from his soaked wrist wrap

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

“No, no, no…” Xie Lian immediately jumps to his feet and moves away "I'm so sorry."

"It's fine, gege."

"No, your bed—"

"It's only water."

"I'll remove it." The words leave his mouth. And before he fully processes them, he reaches for the wet bandages and unwinds the cloth. 

One layer.

Then another.

Then another.

And then, Xie Lian freezes. 

Water drips from the edge of the bandage onto the floor, but Xie Lian stares at his wrist. 

At the smooth where the black marks should be. 

Should be.

Should be.

Should—

His breath catches. "No." The word comes out faint, almost soundless.

He tears the soaked bandages away completely. The skin underneath remains bare, unmarked, and perfect.

The curse mark is gone.

The bowl slips from his fingers, water splashing across the floor, and Xie Lian gasps. "San Lang..."

The room suddenly feels too small, too warm. His lungs refuse to work properly.

"No, this is—"

Immediately, Hua Cheng is beside him as warm hands settle around his own. "Gege."

Xie Lian barely hears him. "How?" His voice shakes. "How did this happen?"

"Gege." Strong fingers squeeze him gently, grounding him.

Slowly, Xie Lian drags his gaze away from his wrist.

Hua Cheng pulls him to the bed, sitting next to him, one hand wrapped around Xie Lian's wrist. 

"Look at me."

Xie Lian obeys. Brown eye meets his—steady, patient and safe. Only then does his breathing begin to slow.

Hua Cheng's thumb brushes over the bare skin where the curse mark used to sit. 

A strange expression crosses his face. "Perhaps..." he says softly. "The feeling gege mentioned yesterday."

Xie Lian blinks. "The tingling?"

He nods. "Perhaps this was why."

The words only create more questions as Xie Lian’s thoughts spin. But how?

Nothing makes sense. 

"What lifted it?" The question escapes before he can stop it. "What lifted my curse?"

Hua Cheng stills. Something in his face changes as he exhales roughly, then turns Xie Lian toward him, face to face.

"Gege." The seriousness in his voice immediately makes Xie Lian nervous.

“I—” he seems to be struggling with something for a moment before he huffs again.

"Do you have feelings for me?"

Xie Lian's brain completely stops. "...What?"

A faint flush appears on Hua Cheng's face, yet he doesn't look away. "Please, gege." His voice comes out rough.

"I'm not trying to embarrass you."

Another pause.

"I need to—I really need to know that."

The sincerity in those words steals every prepared response Xie Lian has been thinking. 

For several moments, he doesn’t speak. Then: "To be honest..."

His hands tighten together. "I had a difficult time differentiating what my feelings for you exactly are.”

Hua Cheng remains motionless.

“You were special to me right from the beginning.”

Xie Lian smiles softly. "But I didn't know whether I loved you the same way I love everyone else."

His throat tightens. "But these past few days..."

The frequent dreams.

The hairpin.

The festival.

The hilltop.

The almost kiss.

Everything.

Always Hua Cheng.

"I've been falling so hard for you that I can barely breathe, San Lang."

Silence.

Hua Cheng doesn't move. Doesn't blink.

Xie Lian presses on anyway because there is no point in hiding now.

“All I can think of is you. And how much I—” His voice trembles and his eyes sting unexpectedly.

“How much I yearn for you every moment.”

The confession hangs naked between them.

Terrifying.

Honest.

Raw.

Xie Lian lowers his head, heat flooding his face at Hua Cheng’s wide eye and lack of response. "I..."

For some reason, apologising feels easier. "I'm sorry."

But the next moment, arms wrap around him.

Tight.

Desperate.

And Xie Lian barely has time to gasp before Hua Cheng buries his face against his neck. "Gege."

His voice breaks. "My gege."

The embrace tightens. Trembles.

"Why are you apologising, my love?"

Something warm touches Xie Lian's skin.

A tear.

Then another.

Hua Cheng laughs shakily. "You have no idea what you've just done to me."

Slowly, he lifts his head and presses their foreheads together.

"Gege, he breathes. "You are my soulmate."

Xie Lian freezes.

"My husband."

He pulls back.

“My reason for existing.”

"We've been married for over eight hundred years."

Every word crashes into him.

Soulmate.

Husband.

Eight hundred years?

"What?” Xie Lian’s voice barely comes out. "What are you saying?"

For the first time, Hua Cheng looks genuinely vulnerable. Terrified, even.

“I am your mate, gege.” The words come out painfully. “The one you had to forget.”

Xie Lian stares, unable to comprehend any of it. "I... we..."

Hua Cheng doesn't answer. Instead, he pulls Xie Lian back into his arms, holding him as though afraid he'll disappear.

Xie Lian hugs him tighter, almost crushing him in his arms before burying his face into his neck. 

All this time, they were…

There is a lump in his throat that Xie Lian tries to swallow painfully. He wants to sob, to cry, to break down. 

But then Hua Cheng sniffles quietly. And immediately, Xie Lian raises a hand and runs it through his hair.

Then across his back.

Trying to soothe him.

Trying to soothe himself.

Eventually, they pull back.

"Who did this to us?" The question slips out before he can stop it.

Hua Cheng goes still. The grief that flashes across his face is immediate.

"Who was cruel enough to curse us, San Lang?"

Silence lasts long and heavy between them.

Then: "...Me."

Xie Lian blinks. "What?"

Hua Cheng lowers his gaze, pain flickering across every inch of his face.

"It was me, gege."

The room suddenly gets too cold. 

Hua Cheng's hand trembles around his. "I was the one who cursed you."

⇝⇝⇝⧪⇜⇜⇜

Eight Hundred Years Ago:

It is the first Full Moon Festival after Hua Cheng and his husband, Xie Lian, ascended to Elysium as Guardian Spirits. 

They are away from their house, away from their friends, away from almost half of the Elysium.

Hua Cheng had found a mystical hot spring too close to Elysium's borders. It glowed cerulean and had a soft, perpetual hum wafting from its core. 

He had wanted to soak in it with Xie Lian after mating.

Gladly, his gege was on board.

"I'm so tired, San Lang," Xie Lian whines as Hua Cheng drapes himself behind Xie Lian's naked body. Their legs tangle, and he nuzzles in the curve of Xie Lian’s neck. 

Hua Cheng has lost count of how many times they have come since last night.

After attending the Moonveil Ceremony, he had immediately dragged Xie Lian to this sequestered spot. 

The last time they had sex was in the mortal realm. 

And even though their ascension is recent, and they had been in their Spirit forms for only a few weeks now, Hua Cheng had missed seeing Xie Lian in his human form. Missed touching his mate like lovers do.

They had been very desperate yesterday, tearing each other's clothes and kissing hungrily before Hua Cheng had thrust into his husband, pleasuring him too many times, and filling him with so much cum that he could brim with spiritual energy. 

The thought is equally satisfying as it is amusing. Because now, his mate, his Xie Lian, is whining like it is he who was drained. 

Hua Cheng snorts before gently pressing his teeth into Xie Lian’s earlobe. "Liar, liar," he whispers. 

Xie Lian squirms, pulling Hua Cheng's arm tighter to his chest. "I'm telling the truth, San Lang."

His gege is so cute like this.

"I've been doing all the work since last night…” Hua Cheng mumbles, then bites the ball of his shoulder. “And you are tired?"

Xie Lian yelps immediately, "San Lang..." before turning around in his arms. "It's like eating too much."

Hua Cheng cocks an eyebrow.

Xie Lian huffs. "When your stomach is full, you instantly feel drowsy."

Hua Cheng laughs at that, loud and hearty, then guides Xie Lian’s face into the crook of his neck. "Then, you feed me next time." 

He nips the shell of his ear, dragging his tongue over the soft skin. "I'm so empty, you know."

Xie Lian moans at the words, pulling back immediately and pressing his lips to Hua Cheng. 

He can never tire of his gege’s kisses, but before he can deepen, Xie Lian pulls back. 

"Not here.” he pants over Hua Cheng’s lips. “We'll continue the rest in our home."

Hua Cheng sighs, “Gege…” feigning sorrow that his mate doesn't want to mate with him in the open anymore. "...at least cuddle with me some more."

"I feel too weak to walk."

Xie Lian perks up, slightly rising from where he is lying on Hua Cheng's chest. "Are you alright, San Lang?"

But Hua Cheng giggles, waving a hand dismissively. "It's nothing. I just want to lie down with you for a while." 

He pulls Xie Lian back to his chest, brushing his fingers through his mate's long hair. "I'll be alright once my gege fills me with spiritual power."

Xie Lian hums, pressing several kisses on his chest. "At least let's wear something, okay?"

Several shichen later, Hua Cheng wakes abruptly.

Something feels wrong.

At first, he hears only a single footstep, soft and distant.

He frowns. Perhaps another human is passing nearby.

Then another footstep follows, and another, and another.

His eyes snap open.

Beside him, Xie Lian is already sitting upright. The two of them exchange a glance.

Neither speaks. They don’t need to. They have spent years understanding each other without words on the battlefield.

Slowly, Hua Cheng rises and looks around. 

That’s when the first figure emerges from the trees.

A human shape.

Twisted.

Hollow-eyed.

Then another appears.

Then three.

Then ten.

Then fifty.

Then hundreds.

Hua Cheng's blood runs cold. "Hollows." The word barely leaves his mouth before they attack.

The creatures surge forward like a flood. One grabs his leg while another catches his arm.

Several more lunge at Xie Lian.

The peaceful afternoon vanishes instantly.

"San Lang!"

"I'm fine!"

Hua Cheng tears through the first wave as bodies scatter in every direction, dust filling the air.

Yet more keep coming.

Even though his spiritual energy is lower, in the past Hua Cheng had been the general of a kingdom, winning hundreds of wars solely through his brute strength.

A few Hollows are nothing to him. 

But something feels wrong. Because more and more Hollows keep coming, and now there are many. 

Far too many.

Across the clearing, Xie Lian is fighting just as fiercely.

Every strike sends Hollows dispersing into ash.

For a moment, Hua Cheng remains confused as to how the Hollows are disintegrating from his gege's punch.  

Then realization strikes.

No.

Not strength.

Spiritual energy.

Xie Lian is bursting with spiritual essence. 

The Yang energy is in excess in his body right now. He can disintegrate every Hollow easily.

Hua Cheng is about to rush to Xie Lian when suddenly, more and more Hollows start emerging from the hot spring. 

In a blink, he is smothered by hundreds of Hollows and pushed down. 

Hua Cheng tries his best to shove them, but nothing works. He hears Xie Lian's screaming.

He’s yelling something.

But all Hua Cheng can decipher is the hoarse sounds echoing around him. 

"Drain him."

"Leave the strong one."

"Drain him."

The words spread like a disease.

Before Hua Cheng can understand what that means, a bunch of Hollows dig their nails into the centre of his chest, right where his Solar Plexus is.

He roars, shattering some of the Hollows on top of him.

But for every one destroyed, ten more take its place.

The swarm closes around him.

Claws.

Hands.

Teeth.

Darkness.

Somewhere beyond the mass of bodies, he hears Xie Lian shouting his name.

"San Lang, I'm here!"

Hua Cheng tries to reach him, tries to fight forward. But fails.

A bunch of Hollows are trying to squeeze Xie Lian’s neck. 

“Gege, you should—”

But Xie Lian coughs, before shattering them into dust. “Don’t worry, beloved. I will—”

Hua Cheng fails to hear the rest as Hollows pile higher. Their claws dig into his lower dantian.

Pain explodes through every meridian as his vision blurs, and he hurls blood.

“NO,” Xie Lian screams gut-wrenchingly.

Every Hollow around him shatters instantly. 

That’s when Hua Cheng sees, for one brief moment—across the sea of monsters— Xie Lian looks furious, terrified and wild-eyed. 

He is trying desperately to get to him.

And for the first time, the sight frightens Hua Cheng more than the wounds.

Because he has seen that expression before.

Not fear.

Not panic.

Desperation.

The kind that makes people do impossible things.

The kind that makes people sacrifice everything.

"Beloved!" Xie Lian's voice breaks. He is rushing towards Hua Cheng. 

But the Hollows refills between them, above them, around them, building a wall neither can cross.

Hua Cheng spits blood again. He can barely see what’s happening to Xie Lian as blood starts leaking from his eyes, ears and nose. 

The world is beginning to fade, but then he hears it.

Soft.

Broken.

Almost lost beneath the chaos.

"I'm sorry."

His heart stops.

Xie Lian is crying. "Beloved, I'm sorry."

Again.

And again.

And again.

"No." Hua Cheng tries to say.

A terrible understanding begins to form.

"San Lang." The voice is trembling. "I can't lose you."

Fear, unlike anything Hua Cheng has ever known, crashes through him.

“Beloved,” Xie Lian cries aloud. 

“I’m going to disperse everything.”

“Gege, no…” Hua Cheng tries to scream, “...don’t do it,” but it comes out as a whisper.

If Xie Lian disperses himself, everyone, including the Hollows, Hua Cheng and Xie Lian himself, will perish forever.  

Death has never frightened him. He was ready to embrace it countless times in the battleground if that would keep his gege safe.

But this?

He cannot allow this. 

Years ago, before Heaven and Earth themselves, Hua Cheng had sworn an oath to protect Xie Lian, to stand beside him, to die before allowing harm to reach him.

He would gladly give his life.

Gladly.

But not Xie Lian's.

Never Xie Lian's.

Not for him.

Not for anyone.

"Gege, don't do it," Hua Cheng tries again.

But Xie Lian doesn't seem to hear him. The spiritual energy gathering around him grows brighter.

Brighter.

Brighter.

Enough to destroy everything.

The Hollows.

The forest.

Themselves.

Forever.

"Beloved," Xie Lian whimpers.

“Don’t…” Hua Cheng’s vision darkens as blood runs into his eyes. He can barely open his eyes, barely breathe, barely think.

Yet one certainty remains.

If he does nothing, Xie Lian will die.

Slowly, Hua Cheng closes his eyes. The decision settles over him with terrible clarity.

He wishes he could see his beloved one last time, hold him one last time.

Instead, he gathers the last fragments of his strength and focuses on his upper dantian—the centre of his forehead. 

"Forgive me, gege."

The prayer is silent.

Broken.

Full of love.

Channelling the last ounce of his spiritual energy, Hua Cheng does something he never thought he would do to his beloved. 

⇝⇝⇝⧪⇜⇜⇜

Xie Lian sits frozen, tears running through his cheeks incessantly as he listens to every word leaving his mate's lips. 

Eight hundred years.

Soulmates.

Husband.

The curse.

The Hollows.

The sacrifice.

His chest aches.

No.

Aches isn't the right word.

It feels as though someone has reached into his ribs and wrapped a hand around his heart.

For a moment, he cannot breathe.

Cannot think.

Cannot move.

Then Hua Cheng's trembling fingers tighten around his wrist. "Gege."

The single word nearly breaks him.

Slowly, Xie Lian lifts his gaze.

Hua Cheng's eye is red, his lashes damp. His entire expression is filled with a grief so old it seems woven into his very soul.

"Please say something." His voice shakes.

But what can Xie Lian say?

That he’s sorry?

Will sorry return eight hundred years of separation?

Will sorry erase the pain his mate endured?

Will—

"I'm sorry, gege." The words are almost a whisper before a painful sob leaves Hua Cheng's throat. 

Xie Lian immediately reaches for him, pulling him close and holding him tightly. "San Lang..."

The name cracks in his throat.

"No." Hua Cheng's shoulders tremble. "All these years..." His voice is muffled against Xie Lian's shoulder.

"You had to live alone."

Xie Lian closes his eyes.

"You had no answers."

A pause.

"No power, no memories."

Xie Lian’s grip tightens.

"And I did this to you."

The final words sound unbearably small.

Xie Lian's eyes burn. "How can you say that, San Lang?"

Hua Cheng doesn't answer.

Xie Lian pulls back just enough to look at him. "How can you compare my pain to yours?"

His voice trembles. "You were the one trapped in that nightmare."

A tear slips down his cheek. "You were the one who almost died."

Another.

"You were the one who suffered for centuries."

Hua Cheng immediately reaches up to wipe the tears away. The gesture only makes more appear.

For a while, neither speaks. Then, softly, Xie Lian asks: "What happened to you after the curse?"

A long silence follows, and eventually Hua Cheng exhales. "Honestly?" A faint smile appears. "I don't remember much."

Xie Lian's heart tightens.

"I woke up in the abyss."

His gaze drifts somewhere distant. "I had almost nothing left."

The smile grows a little sadder.

"At times I wasn't sure whether I was still a spirit or merely another monster living among them."

The image alone is enough to make Xie Lian's throat close."Then?"

For the first time since beginning the story, something warm enters Hua Cheng's eyes.

Something bright, something familiar.

"Then I remembered something important."

Xie Lian waits.

Hua Cheng reaches up and brushes a strand of hair behind his ear."My beloved was waiting for me."

The tears finally spill over immediately. Xie Lian lowers his head, unable to stop, unable to hide.

A soft laugh escapes Hua Cheng, tender and fond. He wipes the tears away one by one. "You are my tether to this universe, gege."

A kiss lands against his forehead, light and reverent."We are each other's tethers."

Another kiss.

"Until one of us remains, we'll find our way back."

That is what finally breaks him.

Xie Lian folds forward, forehead pressed against Hua Cheng's shoulder. "I love you, San Lang."

The confession comes out as a whisper, raw and honest. 

And maybe, painfully late. 

"I love you so much."

Hua Cheng lifts his face, his brown eye gazing into Xie Lian’s as though he wasn’t expecting to hear those words.

Then he smiles, a small, beautiful one. "I love you too, beloved." 

His thumb brushes across Xie Lian's cheek. "Always you."

The distance between them disappears naturally. Neither moves first, or perhaps they both do.

Xie Lian isn't certain. 

Only that suddenly Hua Cheng is there, close, so close, looking at him like he’s afraid to do what he wants to do next. 

So, Xie Lian takes the lead.

Lifting his hand and cupping Hua Cheng's cheek, he pulls him close. Their lips meet in a fierce kiss, desperate but achingly soft as eight hundred years of pain vanish in an instant.

Not forgotten.

Never forgotten.

Just simply overcome.

The kiss feels like a recognition when Hua Cheng moans, pulling Xie Lian closer.

A promise, when he pulls back and slots their lips right.

A reunion, when their tongues meet.

For a while, they don’t stop, pulling back just enough to breathe before moving forward, kissing each other, tasting each other. 

When they finally pull apart, neither moves very far.

Hua Cheng pulls Xie Lian onto his lap and wraps him securely in his arms. 

Xie Lian breathes in the scent of his mate, listening to his heartbeat, and feeling impossibly safe.

Then a thought occurs to him, and his brows knit together. "San Lang?"

"Hm?"

"If the curse is gone..."

Hua Cheng hums softly.

"...why can't I remember everything?"

The question causes Hua Cheng to freeze, only briefly.

But Xie Lian notices. "I remember pieces."

A red wedding canopy.

A battlefield.

A palace.

A voice calling him beloved.

The dreams he had been having must be the memories. 

"But not all of it."

Hua Cheng hesitates for a few moments, then: "We need to reclaim our bond, gege."

Xie Lian blinks. "You mean?"

A faint flush appears on Hua Cheng's face, which is an extremely rare sight for Xie Lian.

"En." He nods. “We need to mate.”

"Oh."

This time, it’s Xie Lian's turn to blush.

Hua Cheng suddenly lowers his gaze. "I'm sorry."

"What for?"

“If Gege doesn't want to. We don't have to. I know it's too—” 

Immediately, Xie Lian sits upright. "How could I not be?"

Hua Cheng looks back at him, genuine surprise flickering across his features.

Xie Lian laughs softly before throwing his arms around him again and holding him tightly. "How can I not want you, San Lang? You're my husband."

The words leave his mouth so naturally that they startle them both.

Hua Cheng goes completely still. "Gege." His voice sounds suspiciously emotional. "Say that again."

Xie Lian smiles. This time there is no hesitation, no uncertainty, no curse.

"My husband."

A kiss lands against Hua Cheng's cheek.

"My mate."

Another.

"My San Lang."

For a moment, Hua Cheng simply stares at him, utterly defeated, and utterly in love.

Then he kisses Xie Lian again as though he has waited eight hundred years to do exactly that.

⇝⇝⇝⧪⇜⇜⇜

It’s nearly dark when Xie Lian wakes up from a short slumber. 

For a moment, he thinks he is in his own house before his brain catches up with the unfamiliar ceiling, the unfamiliar air. 

Ah, he is at San Lang’s house. 

His mate’s house.

Relief and bliss wash through him—soft and warm—at the realisation.  

Xie Lian presses his face into the pillow beside him, inhaling the faint trace of cedarwood and smoke, before pushing himself upright.

Where is his mate?

Then he hears it—the faint sound of water splashing from the adjacent room. 

He sighs in relief. 

Hua Cheng must be bathing!

After the confession and the kisses and the tears, they both ended up exhausted and fell asleep. And Hua Cheng had been burning with fever. So Xie Lian had fed him medicine, cleaned and dressed his wounds, and made him some Ginger and Lemon Balm soup. 

He named it “All-Illness-Begone Soup.”

Hua Cheng had laughed—bright and unrestrained—before emptying the bowl like a starved man.

Xie Lian had been worrying about the excess ginger he added to the soup—it was meant to draw out the fever, after all—but Hua Cheng seemed unbothered. 

So it was probably fine. 

After lunch, they stayed curled in each other's arms, talking about the past.

Hua Cheng had shared the bits and pieces of their mortal life.

Apparently, Xie Lian was the king of a great kingdom called Xianle and Hua Cheng, his childhood friend. They’d fallen in love at seventeen and married when Hua Cheng became Lieutenant General. 

At twenty-six, Xie Lian inherited the throne after his father’s sudden death. Hua Cheng was promoted to the Army General then.

Soon, they ruled Xianle together.

Under them, Xianle flourished—wealthy and at peace, despite constant threats from neighbouring kingdoms. Those threats ended when Xianle annexed them, rising as the most powerful kingdom of the century.

However, it was their efforts against a widespread calamity that earned them ascension. 

Many kingdoms, including Xianle, had been hit with a year-long drought. Fortunately, Xianle had conserved granaries abounding with food supplies and underground water resources. 

In the face of calamity, Xianle had not only succeeded in feeding its people but had also sent food and water to other kingdoms. 

The king’s and his general’s altruistic and philanthropic efforts had finally led to their ascension as Guardian Spirits. 

Xie Lian had been speechless when Hua Cheng stopped talking. 

Their past sounded unreal.

Kingdom, wars, bloodshed—everything felt like an alien part of his being, one that he no longer recognised in himself.

They talked some more after that. Xie Lian explained the immediate happenings after waking up with memory loss eight hundred years ago.

However, Hua Cheng intentionally deflected every question about the abyss by talking about the battle that cost his right eye.  

Xie Lian didn’t force him. If Hua Cheng wanted to talk in the future, he’d wait. 

After all, they have an eternity to look forward to. 

Xie Lian exhales audibly. For the first time in memory, he is at peace—the kind that settles deep inside his core—steady and alive. 

He rises from the bed and walks toward the water pitcher across the room. 

Even the water tastes divine today, sweet like an ambrosia. 

He downs a cup. Then another, when—

—Hua Cheng enters the room in a crimson inner robe, half-opened over his chest. 

Xie Lian freezes, eyes catching the water glistening on that pale skin, tracing the way they run down from his collarbone to his abdomen. 

Factually, Xie Lian is allowed to look. He has every right to admire his beautiful husband. 

Instead, the other man’s gaze rakes him from head to toe, and Xie Lian feels as if he’s about to be devoured. 

He turns, placing the cup on the table and begins to walk back to the bed, when—

—he is pulled from behind. 

“Gege…” Hua Cheng’s firm chest presses behind his back—cool and warm at the same time as strong arms close around him.

“What are you thinking?”

Cool nose brushes Xie Lian’s neck, and instinctively his eyes shut close. “I—” Every coherent thought leaves in an instant as his breath speeds up. 

“Tell me,” Hua Cheng whispers over his skin, pressing a soft kiss to the base of his neck. “What made my gege blush so prettily?”

Xie Lian takes a deep breath. Steadying himself, he pulls away, then turns within Hua Cheng’s hold. 

Brown eye meets his—warm and eager—thawing every tight nerve in his chest just like that. 

Xie Lian clears his throat, gripping Hua Cheng’s arms to steady himself. “The last few days, while I was falling for you, I had this thought.” 

“Mm?” 

“That even if you fall in love with me someday… You wouldn’t love me as much as I love you.” 

Hua Cheng arches an eyebrow, but his lips stretch into a slow grin.

“But now…” Xie Lian giggles, despite himself, “Now you look one moment away from jumping on me.”

Laughter bursts from Hua Cheng—loud and bright. He hoists Xie Lian and sets him gently on the edge of the table. “Do I?” 

“En.” Xie Lian smiles. 

Hua Cheng bends slightly so that they are eye-to-eye, then tucks a piece of hair behind Xie Lian’s ear. “And how does that make you feel?”

“So special,” Xie Lian says, cupping the earnest face in front of him. “Like I'm being worshipped every moment.”

“You are.” Hua Cheng moves closer, mumbling over his lips. “I worship you, gege. Utterly. Foolishly. Hopelessly.”

Xie Lian’s breath hitches at the words. 

At the ease with which they are spoken. 

At the sincerity dripping from them. 

He leans forward and hides in his mate’s neck. “And what about your husband?” he asks after a breath. “How did he worship you… back then? 

Hua Cheng chuckles, pulling back slightly to look him in the eyes. “He worshipped me plenty,” he answers, cradling Xie Lian’s face.

“There's no time in my life when I doubted his love for me,” he continues, pressing a kiss on the tip of Xie Lian’s nose. “I mean, he almost destroyed himself for me once.”

Something heavy plummets into his stomach, and Xie Lian’s face drops with it.

Hua Cheng quickly tips his face upward, placing a kiss on his forehead. “Too soon?”

“No,” Xie Lian shakes his head. “It's just—” 

For a moment, he considers the right way to formulate his question. “...that's not what I was asking.”

“Then?”

Heat rushes all the way from his neck to his face, but Xie Lian presses on. “I mean, how did he express his love to you?”

Hua Cheng tilts his head, considering the words. “You mean in bed?”

Xie Lian nods. 

“Ah, he was… very sweet at times,” Hua Cheng begins, then promptly lifts him before walking towards the bed. 

He settles on the bed, leaning against the headboard with Xie Lian on his lap.

“My husband enjoys trusting and submitting to me,” Hua Cheng says, gently brushing the high of Xie Lian's cheek. “...while I pleasured him all night.” 

Xie Lian’s eyes widen. The urge to hide his face is too strong, but Hua Cheng continues: “Other times, he loved to play around,” his voice lowers. “Pushing me on the nearest surface and commanding me like the king he is while I begged for release.”

Xie Lian gasps at the words, at the dark eye gazing into his. “And—um—what did you love most?”

Hua Cheng laughs under his breath, leaning in, he starts pressing kisses along Xie Lian’s neck. “Both.”

Xie Lian’s cock twitches when teeth graze underneath his jawbone. 

“What do you—uh—” he says, lifting Hua Cheng’s face from his neck. 

“What do you want tonight? And don't say it's whatever I want,” Xie Lian says sternly. “You have to choose.”

Hua Cheng hums for a moment, then his lips move to the base of Xie Lian’s neck. “I want you to trust me.”  

He presses a kiss to Xie Lian’s throat. “Let me show you how much I love you.”  

Another just below his jaw. “How much I missed you.”

He pulls back, looking straight into Xie Lian’s eyes. “Let your husband worship you again, gege.” 

“San Lang—”

“Is that a yes?”

Xie Lian nods, voice barely above a whisper. “Yes, yes, please.”

Hua Cheng closes the distance between them, catching his lower lip before sucking on it sharply. 

Xie Lian moans, cock twitching as he opens his mouth to accept the tongue plunging in.

A toe-curling pleasure courses through him when their tongues touch again, and he curls his fingers into Hua Cheng’s hair, gripping them tightly.

Hua Cheng sucks on his tongue, licking inside his mouth like a man left in the desert, gasping and grunting, and making all the delicious sounds that make Xie Lian’s cock throb. 

“San Lang…” he gasps when Hua Cheng pulls back and starts biting tiny kisses over the curve of his neck. 

“Gege,” Hua Cheng whispers, then sucks a mark below his right ear. The skin there is surprisingly sensitive, and Xie Lian’s cock dribbles inside his underpants. 

“Your highness.” Hua Cheng's teeth tug the earlobe, then pulls away when Xie Lian hisses. 

The address feels too strange yet intimate coming from Hua Cheng’s lips. 

“Let me make love to you,” he says, fingers curling around Xie Lian’s sash. 

Xie Lian nods his consent, loosening the knot, but Hua Cheng leans forward and kisses him again. 

The kisses are urgent and needy—too much teeth and tongue—as if Hua Cheng is torn between kissing and biting him. 

And even though current Xie Lian is an amateur at kissing, his body and mouth seem to be in tune with his mate. 

Hua Cheng’s hands roam along his sides, mapping the curve of his hips, feeling the expanse of his back before stopping above the swell of his ass. 

The hands stay there even when Xie Lian shamelessly presses forward, rubbing against Hua Cheng’s abdomen. 

Sensing his mate’s indecision, Xie Lian grabs the hand behind him and presses it firmly over his mound. 

Hua Cheng moans loudly, kneading his asscheeks immediately, fingers digging into his flesh before breaking the kiss. 

“Gege, you—” he pants, then presses their forehead together. 

Their breaths mingle when Hua Cheng whispers between them: “You’re really here.”

Xie Lian’s heart crumbles at the words, at the realisation that this reunion is probably ten times more intense for Hua Cheng than it is for Xie Lian without his memory. 

“I am,” he whispers back, leaning in to peck his lips. 

Hua Cheng hums into the kiss and then slowly pulls back. 

Xie Lian cradles his face, pushing back the fallen strands and smiles. “Gege is here, my San Lang.”

Hua Cheng beams in return, and Xie Lian takes the moment to gently remove the eyepatch covering his right eye. 

Hua Cheng’s breath hitches, yet he remains still until Xie Lian’s thumb brushes over the rugged skin. 

It looks like vine of lightning bolts. And even though the wound is old, Xie Lian tenderly traces the silvery scars.

Like this, his mate looks every bit the mighty warrior he was—the most beautiful man Xie Lian’s ever seen. 

Hua Cheng presses into Xie Lian’s touch, closing his other eye for a moment, then exhales softly. 

Xie Lian leans closer and presses several careful kisses on both his eyes. “So beautiful, he whispers.”

The responding smile on his San Lang’s face is something he’d want to trace on a paper. 

“Gege…” Hua Cheng says a moment later. “Can we take off our clothes?”

Xie Lian nods, then rises from his lap. 

When they began this, Xie Lian was under the notion that this night would go slowly. They would take their time. Slow kisses and soft touches. 

But Hua Cheng is frantically removing his inner robe and underpants like it’s a race he has to win.

He tosses them somewhere in the room and before Xie Lian can really admire his mate’s body, climbs back on the bed with a giggle. 

“San Lang, slow down.” Xie Lian chuckles, but Hua Cheng’s hands are already rushing to the opening of his robe, hastily divesting the many layers with ease. 

Soon, when Xie Lian is down to his underpants, Hua Cheng tackles him with a hug and pushes them down on the mattress. 

“I’ve been waiting for this moment for centuries,” Hua Cheng mumbles over the curve of his neck.

Xie Lian wraps him snugly inside his arms, pressing several kisses into his hair. “I love you.”

Hua Cheng pulls back, brushing their noses. “I love you too,” he breathes before connecting their lips. 

For a while, they simply kiss, swallowing each other’s moans and losing themselves in the taste of the other.

Their hands wander each other’s bodies—feeling skin and warmth—reconnecting in a way that is only possible through the language of bodies. 

Slowly, Hua Cheng begins to move on top of him, softly grinding their groins. 

“Ah, San Lang,” Xie Lian gasps, pulling back from the kiss. 

His underpants are soaked in the crotch area, and Xie Lian glances down to see Hua Cheng’s cock leaking precum onto the garment. 

All thoughts of taking this slow fly out of his mind at the sight of that beautiful cock of his husband.

It stands tall, pink and shiny at the tip, beckoning for Xie Lian’s touch.

“Gege,” Hua Cheng groans on top of him, his eye fixed on Xie Lian’s face. “Touch me.”

That’s all the consent Xie Lian needs as he wraps his fingers around the cock. He strokes it from base to tip as clear precum leaks into his hand. 

“Ah,” Hua Cheng pants, pressing his forehead against Xie Lian’s collarbone and slowly thrusting into his grip. “Do you like it?”

Xie Lian hums, licking his lips and thumbing the dribbling precum on every upward stroke. 

“Want it inside you?” Hua Cheng asks, lifting his head and nudging his nose. 

“Yes, San Lang.” Xie Lian nods, giving his cock a few more tight strokes, then pulling his hand away. 

Hua Cheng grabs the hand quickly, sucking on the cum soaked fingers one-by-one before dipping to share the taste with him. 

Xie Lian moans at the heady taste. It feels like comfort and familiar in a way his brain grapples briefly to understand. 

They kiss for a few moments before Hua Cheng’s kisses trail down to his neck. The kisses are reverent and playful as Hua Cheng alternates between his tongue and teeth to worship Xie Lian’s body. 

Everywhere his mate’s lips touch, Xie Lian’s skin blooms with marks. And Hua Cheng knows the exact place and the exact way to create them. 

He plays with Xie Lian’s nipples, sucking and licking around the areola as Xie Lian keens with pleasure. For a moment, Xie Lian feels certain that he can come with the stimulation alone before Hua Cheng pulls back. 

“Good?” Hua Cheng asks, pressing more kisses on his sternum. 

Xie Lian licks his lip, then nods gently, “So good.”

A soft laugh echoes inside the room as Hua Cheng pushes up next to him. “I’m glad your San Lang still knows how to make you feel good.”

Xie Lian smiles at the teasing words. 

Years of separation should have made them strangers; instead, every touch feels familiar as though eight hundred years were nothing before the bond that had always tied them together.

Hua Cheng goes back to pressing more kisses over his body, licking the planes of his abdomen and sucking more marks wherever he can. 

Xie Lian yelps in particular when Hua Cheng’s tongue dips into his navel. Apparently, it is one of his pleasure spots, a very sensitive one, in fact.

Slowly, when Hua Cheng’s face inches close to his pelvis, Xie Lian sucks in a breath.

Waiting.

Hua Cheng glances up, checking on him before pressing a tender kiss on his hipbone. 

Carefully, he unties Xie Lian’s pants and pulls them off. Xie Lian’s cock springs free, hard and leaking at the tip. 

Arousal and nervousness battle in his belly at the way Hua Cheng gazes at his shaft with unguarded desire. 

Then, fingers curl around Xie Lian’s cock and he chokes off a moan at the immediate relief. 

Hua Cheng’s strokes are steady and smooth, aided by the copious amount of Xie Lian’s precum. 

More marks are pressed on Xie Lian’s thighs, and he mewls when Hua Cheng’s tongue swipes over his balls.

 “San Lang, that’s—”

That’s so good—he wants to say before the words dissolve under the pleasure. 

Hua Cheng looks up—brown eye hooded with lust and unbridled want—before removing his hand from around Xie Lian’s cock. 

With both hands, he spreads Xie Lian’s legs, bending them at the knees and keeping them wide open. 

Xie Lian gasps, no longer able to endure the intensity of his mate’s eye as he covers his face with his hands. 

“Gege,” Hua Cheng drawls. “Look at me…”

Xie Lian shakes his head. No, he can’t—lest he combust under his own shameful desires. 

“Your highness,” Hua Cheng mutters again, pressing a fluttering kiss to Xie Lian’s ankle. “Please look at your San Lang.”

Xie Lian takes a deep breath, resolve crumbling at the plea, and slowly parts his hands. 

“There’s my gege.” Hua Cheng smiles, equal parts of mirth and mischief curling in those lips. 

“You’re perfect as you are,” he says gently, caressing Xie Lian’s inner thighs and raising goosebumps in their wake. “All mine, yeah?”

Xie Lian nods without hesitation—because he is. His head fills with boundless affection and gratitude for the man looking at him.

How did Xie Lian get so lucky? And even twice for that matter?

Hua Cheng presses another kiss on his abdomen, then another, mellowing Xie Lian’s breath before reaching for his hand. “Hold onto my hair, okay?” 

Xie Lian nods, “Okay.” He sinks his fingers into Hua Cheng’s hair and grips them tight. 

Hua Cheng ducks again, wrapping his fingers around Xie Lian’s cock, then licks at the tip. 

Xie Lian shudders, pleasure skittering across his body instantly. “San Lang…” 

Hua Cheng hums in response, taking more of his cock into his mouth while keeping Xie Lian’s legs open with his unoccupied hand. 

All mortification about lying bare in front of his mate shatters as Hua Cheng starts sucking him in earnest. 

Xie Lian holds onto Hua Cheng’s hair, pulling the strands taut whenever Hua Cheng’s tongue dips into his slit. 

It feels good… unbelievably good than Xie Lian’s hand ever did during the lonely nights he fleetingly succumbed to his body’s urges.  

Hua Cheng’s fingers are tight around the base as he bobs his head up and down with fervour. Precum leaks incessantly from Xie Lian’s cock, which Hua Cheng laps up like it’s a delicacy. 

The sight is too much, too vivid for his poor heart, yet Xie Lian keeps his eyes fixed, too awestruck to look away from his mate.

He’s almost at the edge, pressure building slowly from the centre of his groin when Hua Cheng's gaze drifts up to him—

—And pulls off. 

Xie Lian cries, belly concaving as he arches off from the bed. “San Lang…” he pants, removing his fingers from Hua Cheng’s hair.

Hua Cheng immediately rushes to his side, pressing kisses to his cheeks and forehead. “I need to be inside you, gege,” he whispers, pushing Xie Lian’s sweaty hair away from his face. “Want to come with you.”

Xie Lian whines, pushing up and locking their lips. 

They kiss until Xie Lian breathes normally, and then reluctantly pull apart. 

Xie Lian sinks back to the bed, then cups Hua Cheng’s face. “There’s—um—a vial of oil in my medicine box,” he says, breathless, hoping the indication is clear. 

Hua Cheng nods, grinning, then promptly ducks under the bed, returning with a vial of Xie Lian’s botanical oil. He waits as composed as he can, watching his mate pull out the stopper and pour the viscous liquid onto his long fingers. 

“Ready?” Hua Cheng checks again. Ever the gentleman his man is!

Xie Lian hums his assent, spreading his legs apart. Desire isn’t something to hide anymore, not when the same urgency is reflected in Hua Cheng’s eyes. 

Slowly, Hua Cheng crawls to the edge of the bed and then wraps his oiled fingers around Xie Lian’s cock. 

They works his cock, rhythmic motions of up, down and up, twist over and over again.

Xie Lian paws at his mate’s shoulder, holding on as his hips buck in tandem with Hua Cheng’s hand. 

Pleasure rushes straight to his scalp—sharp and tingly—as Hua Cheng’s mouths his balls while his hand stimulates his cock. 

All thoughts leaves his mind for a while as Xie Lian surrenders to the pleasure steadily surging through his meridians. And that’s why he jolts when something soft and wet prods at his hole. 

“San Lang, no—” Xie Lian shrieks at the realisation, legs pressing close.

That’s not a finger, that’s—

Hua Cheng lifts his head. “What happened, gege?” he asks, wiping his lips innocently like he’s truly unaware of his actions. 

But shame surfaces on Xie Lian’s face, clashing with the lust fogging his brain. “You—you shouldn’t,” he manages to say, squirming under his mate’s amused face. 

Hua Cheng chuckles, dipping down to press a kiss to Xie Lian’s cockhead. “Why not?”

“Ah!” Xie Lian’s cock jumps. “I don’t—don’t know.”

It's obscene; that’s why. 

And for some reason… Xie Lian liked it. 

A bit too much. 

"Gege,” Hua Cheng coos, slowly moving his hand along Xie Lian’s shaft. “In the past, I've never fucked you without licking you open."

Xie Lian looks back, eyes wide and breath shallow. "Really?"

"En," Hua Cheng nods.

"Back when your highness had so many court records to go through,” he says, voice dropping to a rasp. “You'd make me kneel under the table and eat you out slowly until you finished your work..."

Xie Lian moans loudly, eyes screwing shut. "Enough, enough," he huffs. "I—trust you."

Hua Cheng laughs, head thrown back, and Xie Lian realises how much of a bully his mate really is.

Truly the most suitable embodiment of a Fox!

“So, can I continue?” he asks again, pressing another kiss to his thigh.

Xie Lian nods, eyes fluttering shut, bracing for the pleasure that’s about to follow. 

Hua Cheng parts one of his cheeks wide, then dips his tongue to his clenching hole. 

“Ah, San Lang…” Xie Lian groans, clawing at the bedsheet. Pleasure shooting from his core—sharp and tingling at the same time. 

Hua Cheng greedily laps on the skin, opening him up with broad swipes of tongue, before gently nipping on it. The hand around Xie Lian’s cock picks up the pace.

Xie Lian doesn't know where to focus. “So good,” he murmurs, blindly sweeping his other hand to grab Hua Cheng’s hair. 

Hua Cheng ramps up the efforts, wiggling his tongue inside before replacing it with a finger. 

Xie Lian is stuffed instantly, so aroused that his hole sucks the finger in smoothly. 

The stretch aches. Of course, it does! But Hua Cheng licks several kisses inside his thigh, distracting him from the discomfort. 

Slowly, Xie Lian opens his eyes only to meet his husband’s heavy-lidded eye on him—checking, watching, gauging his expressions. 

A broken moan slips his throat when Hua Cheng dips again to lick around his hole. This time, he kitten-licks around his pucker, keeping him writhing under the taunting pleasure before sliding another finger into his hole.

The ache is less intense now, waning steeply with the skilful tongue working around his finger.

His San Lang is truly a maestro in his body, playing him artfully as if no time has passed. 

Xie Lian’s cock is drooling onto his belly, angry red at the tip without a hand around it. However, he stomps down the itch to relieve his poor cock, fearing that would tip him over. 

Soon, Hua Cheng introduces a third finger inside him, and Xie Lian’s eyes roll back. 

Whenever he scissors the fingers, they brush something inside him, making Xie Lian mewl from how good it feels. 

Slowly, Hua Cheng rises. His fingers remain inside Xie Lian, motionless, as he moves up to his side. 

Xie Lian’s hands immediately lift, sweeping the hairs out of his face. 

“Gege…” Hua Cheng says, breathless. He looks unravelled—flushed cheeks and gaze going faraway like he’s drifting somewhere Xie Lian can’t follow. 

Xie Lian pulls him closer and guides him to his neck. “San Lang…” he responds, tilting his head to kiss the side of his face. “Need you inside me.”

A slow inhale, then Hua Cheng lifts his head and nods. 

Wordlessly, he sits back on his knees, then goes for the glass vial again. His gaze remains on Xie Lian’s body, tracking every inch of his heaving torso while he slicks up his cock. 

Xie Lian nearly comes at the piercing stare, pulse racing up.

Finally, Hua Cheng shuffles closer, spreading Xie Lian’s cheeks, then lines his cock to his rim. 

Xie Lian takes a deep breath, eyes fixed on his mate as Hua Cheng carefully pushes inside. 

“Aah,” Xie Lian gasps. Pain and pleasure coalescing, spreading through his limbs when the head pops inside. 

“Relax for me, gege,” Hua Cheng mumbles, pausing to hover on top of Xie Lian, arms bracketing on either side of his head. 

Xie Lian can only move his head in response, imitating a nod, given how full he is—engulfed by his husband on every side. 

His ever perceptive mate peppers more and more kisses to his ear and neck, soothing him in action before pushing again. 

It still aches, but the kisses ease out the pain. 

When Xie Lian finally feels his husband’s cock filling him up, tears begin to gather behind his eyes. 

“My gege,” Hua Cheng rasps, bottoming out and nestling into his neck. 

For a moment, they both remain still—pelvis to pelvis, soul to soul, savouring the fullness… the union their bodies longed for. 

Then, Hua Cheng begins to thrust. “I’ve waited so long for you, Xie Lian,” he whispers.

Tears run down Xie Lian’s face at the words as he nestles closer, pressing kisses wherever he can. 

Hua Cheng continues—slow, languid thrusts. “To have you in my arms.” 

Another thrust. “To love you.”

Another deep one. “To bury myself inside you like this.”

“San Lang…” Xie Lian moans loudly, which may or may not have come out as a sob. 

Hua Cheng picks up the pace, deeper, harder thrusts that make Xie Lian’s bones rattle. “Yes, my heart,” he asks breathlessly, thumb skimming the corner of his eyes. “What do you want?” 

Xie Lian parts his lips, but nothing comes out as Hua Cheng nudges at the same spot inside him. 

“Say it, beloved,” Hua Cheng urges, jostling Xie Lian with each powerful cant of his hips. One of his hands smooths over Xie Lian’s chest, tweaking his nipples before shifting downwards to wrap around his cock. 

Xie Lian shrieks, head thrown back. “Ah, don't ever let go,” he manages to mutter, holding on. 

“Never,” Hua Cheng says, sealing it with another thrust, slamming right at the spot without stopping.

“Even the abyss and curse couldn't separate us,” he pants, jerking Xie Lian’s cock in sync. “We’ll never part.”

“Yes…yes, San Lang,” Xie Lian stammers. “Don't stop.”

Tightness coils inside his belly as the combined pleasures of Hua Cheng’s hand and his throbbing, relentless cock inside him tip him over the edge.

He comes with a scream, legs thrashing and body shuddering as he spills between, releasing his pain… his pleasure… and the all-encompassing love for this man.

Hua Cheng is not behind.

Pushing once, twice, thrice, shoving his hips deeper as he comes too, filling Xie Lian with his cum… with his spiritual essence… with his centuries-long devotion.

And just like that, the bond settles.

Not all at once but slowly, like water returning to a dried riverbed.

For a moment, Xie Lian simply lies there, breathing hard, still joined inseparably with his husband on the bed.

Then, suddenly, a memory flashes behind his eyes.

Red.

Gold.

Laughter.

Another.

A wedding canopy.

A pair of hands trembling as they exchanged vows.

Another.

Hua Cheng kneeling before him, kissing his hand. 

Another.

A battlefield.

Another.

A teenage boy with mismatched eyes bringing flowers for him.

Gege.

Beloved. 

Another.

Another.

Another.

Suddenly, they aren't fragments anymore. They're memories.

His memories.

Their memories.

And that's when Xie Lian starts crying. Sobbing in a way he can’t stop. The kind that hurts, the kind that makes breathing difficult.

"Gege?"

A hand cups his face. Concern immediately replacing the soft contentment from moments ago. "Gege, look at me."

Xie Lian gasps aloud, snapping his eyes open as his husband’s beautiful face, marred with worry, looms over him. 

“Hong-er..." Xie Lian whispers, voice cracking. 

Hua Cheng freezes. Completely. 

Xie Lian reaches for his face, hands shaking, cradling the face of the boy, who loved him before either of them knew what love was. 

"My Hong-er." The tears come harder. "I remember, beloved."

Another sob.

"I remember everything."

And that’s when Hua Cheng breaks, falling forward on Xie Lian’s chest like he did countless times in a past, he now remembers vividly. 

“Gege,” he sniffles, clinging to Xie Lian like he’s scared they’d be pulled apart any moment. 

But Xie Lian keeps him snug inside his arms, stroking his hair, his cheeks, his shoulder, when—

Another memory crashes into him like a doom.

The hot spring.

The Hollows.

Hua Cheng.

Covered in blood.

Dying.

Calling for him.

Begging him not to do it.

"San Lang—" Xie Lian’s breath catches violently. His hands move before he can stop them, grabbing, searching, finding warm skin and beating heart against his.

Alive.

Alive.

Alive.

Hua Cheng lifts his head. "Gege?"

But Xie Lian barely hears him as his trembling hands move over Hua Cheng’s arms, shoulders, and chest as though he needs proof.

"You lived." The words leave him as a whisper, a prayer.

Hua Cheng stills above him. 

A shaky breath escapes him. "You lived, beloved." His thumb brushes beneath Hua Cheng's eye, following the path where blood had once flowed.

"You came back to me."

Hua Cheng's lower lip wobbles, tears spilling down his own cheeks now.

And the next thing he knows, they’re clutching each other with all their might. 

As though eight hundred years of grief are finally catching up to him.

"Of course I did,” Hua Cheng’s voice cracks as he buries his face in Xie Lian’s neck.

"Gege was waiting for me."

The tears come harder at the words. 

As though crossing an abyss, surviving eight hundred years alone, and finding his way back from death itself were the easiest things in the world.

Simply because Xie Lian was waiting.

⇝⇝⇝⧪⇜⇜⇜

The next two days hasten in pleasure—gratifying, cathartic—as they cry, reconnect and ravish each other in no particular order. 

After the first night, Xie Lian takes over, filling his husband over and over again until he is leaking with him cum and sealed in his spiritual essence. 

They mate on Hua Cheng’s bed until the sheets rip and the mattress is beyond salvageable. 

Hua Cheng bends him on the table, eating him slowly like the past before pounding into him. 

Xie Lian pushes him against the window, curtains rustling, as he kneels in front of his husband and takes him inside his mouth. 

It’s exhilarating, familiar in a way he barely recalls. 

However, dread pools in his belly when Hua Cheng proposes to take him by the creek. 

Xie Lian refuses outright. The wound, even though ancient, is too tender in his memory. 

But Hua Cheng explains how every water body is now safeguarded by He Xuan and his army of water parasites that specifically gobble Hollows.

Eventually, Xie Lian agrees, unable to deny his husband’s wishes, as they fuck in the open… under the moon for the whole Elysium to see. 

The tears stop by the end of the second day, and that’s when they talk—everything and nothing like the old times. 

Hua Cheng confesses that he was planning to take Xie Lian to Stillheart Lake during the Moonveil Ceremony. 

Xie Lian’s eyes widen before he tumbles into laughter, confessing the same. 

The realisation that they’re still the same despite the centuries-long separation is both amusing and comforting. 

“Of course, we are,” Xie Lian says, pressing a lingering kiss to his husband’s lips. 

After all, their souls are long twined to each other.

⇝⇝⇝⧪⇜⇜⇜

The room is quiet.

Outside, moonlight spills through the window in soft silver ribbons.

Tomorrow, the Full Moon Festival will end and every Guardian Spirit in Elysium will return to their true form.

Xie Lian should be excited. Instead, he feels oddly restless.

Behind him, Hua Cheng is reclined against the headboard, absentmindedly combing his fingers through Xie Lian's hair.

The repetitive motion is soothing. Normally, Xie Lian would have fallen asleep by now.

Instead, he finds himself twisting the edge of the blanket between his fingers.

Thinking.

Thinking.

And thinking some more.

A sigh escapes him before he can stop it and immediately, the fingers in his hair pause.

"Gege?"

Xie Lian hums. Another gentle stroke follows.

"What are you worrying about?"

He freezes. Then laughs weakly. "Is it that obvious?"

Hua Cheng snorts. "To me? Always."

The answer draws a reluctant smile from Xie Lian, and for a few moments, neither speaks.

"Tomorrow," Xie Lian exhales, turning slightly until his cheek rests against Hua Cheng's chest. "Tomorrow I'll become a Guardian Spirit again."

"Mn."

"I should be happy."

"You should."

"But..." The word trails away.

Hua Cheng continues stroking his hair, never rushing him, never forcing him.

"What if everything has changed?" he whispers eventually.

The hand in his hair stills.

"What if everyone expects me to be the same person I was eight hundred years ago?"

A pause.

"What if I'm not?"

The words become easier once they start.

"What if I don't know how to be a Guardian Spirit anymore?"

"What if mortals summon me and I fail them?"

The confession leaves him feeling strangely foolish. For centuries, he has faced curses, loneliness, and heartbreak, yet somehow this terrifies him.

Slowly, Hua Cheng wraps an arm around his waist, pulling him closer. "So that's what has been troubling gege."

Xie Lian groans softly. "Please don't laugh."

"I'm not." There is genuine affection in Hua Cheng's voice, the kind that immediately warms Xie Lian's ears.

"Then what?"

Hua Cheng thinks for a moment. "Do you know what I spent eight hundred years searching for?"

Xie Lian blinks, the question catches him off guard. "Me?"

A smile touches Hua Cheng's lips. "Correct."

Xie Lian rolls his eyes. "San Lang."

"I'm serious." The arm around his waist tightens slightly. "I didn't spend eight hundred years searching for the Guardian Spirit."

Another stroke through his hair. "I wasn't looking for a king that selflessly cared for people."

His voice softens: "I was looking for you."

Hua Cheng tilts his chin upward until their eyes meet. "If you've changed, then you've changed."

Simple.

Matter-of-fact.

"If you've forgotten things, we'll remember them together."

Xie Lian's throat tightens.

"If you're uncertain, then we'll figure it out."

The words settle somewhere deep inside him, quietly, gently like a blanket being draped over tired shoulders.

"What if I fail?" The question comes out smaller than intended.

Hua Cheng smiles. Then leans forward and presses a kiss against his forehead. "You won't."

"But what if I do?"

This time Hua Cheng actually laughs, soft and fond, the sound Xie Lian loves most.

"Then come home."

Hua Cheng cradles his face, pressing a kiss to his nose. "Fail."

A kiss to his cheek. "Try again."

Another kiss to the other side. "And if gege still fails?"

His forehead rests against Xie Lian's. "Then come home to me."

For a long moment, Xie Lian says nothing.

The knot in his chest slowly loosens, then loosens some more until eventually he laughs—a quiet, breathless sound. 

“I love you, beloved,” Xie Lian says, then hides his face in Hua Cheng's neck.

The fingers return to his hair—gentle, steady, and safe. “I love you too. Always you.”

Neither speaks again.

Outside, the moon continues its slow journey across the sky.

Inside, wrapped securely in his husband's arms, Xie Lian finally stops worrying about tomorrow.

Instead, for the first time in eight hundred years, he simply looks forward to it.

⇝⇝⇝⧪⇜⇜⇜

When dawn arrives, Elysium transforms.

Moonlight retreats.

Sunlight spills across the realm.

And throughout forests, rivers, mountains and gardens, Guardian Spirits return to their true forms.

Near the shores of Stillheart Lake, two figures stand together.

One is a magnificent fox spirit—crimson fur gleaming beneath the morning sun, and a luscious tail drifting behind him like a living flame.

At his side stands a spirit that has not been seen for centuries.

A White Crane.

Beautiful.

Ancient.

Beloved.

His feathers shimmer white and gold beneath the dawn.

Massive wings stretch outward, catching the sunlight until they seem forged from liquid gold itself.

For a moment, neither spirit moves.

The lake remains perfectly still.

Then the Fox steps forward.

The Crane follows.

Shoulder to shoulder, wing brushing fur, they approach the water's edge.

And for the first time in a long while, Stillheart Lake ripples.

Once.

Then again.

Then again.

The waves spread across the entire lake.

Gentle.

Endless.

As though the realm itself is welcoming them home.

Far away, Guardian Spirits pause.

A Snow Leopard stops mid-step.

A Black Cat nearly falls from a tree.

An Elk lifts his head.

A Red Stag roars in joy (Read: Ho Ho). 

Across Elysium, spirits turn toward the lake expectantly.

Because after eight hundred years—

The White Crane Spirit has returned.

And he has finally found his way back to the Fox Spirit, who never stopped waiting for him.

⇝⇝⇝⧪⇜⇜⇜